


Defenders of the Night

by bushlaboo



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Police, Beware POV Whiplash, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Epic Bromance, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers-ish, Gargoyles - Freeform, Implied Relationships, Magical Creatures, Mystical Travel, Past Relationship(s), References to Shakespeare, Slow Burn, Vendettas, accidental injury, magical transformation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2018-11-07 10:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11057292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bushlaboo/pseuds/bushlaboo
Summary: Over a thousand years ago, superstition and the sword ruled.It was a time of darkness. It was a world of fear. It was the age of gargoyles.When their centuries long curse is lifted, Oliver and his clan find themselves facing the modern world of Starling City where new foes and a familiar face pose a threat to their continued existence.Aka aGargoylesArrowAU.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of my sanity, a few changes to the Gargoyle clans: 1) they have names and 2) known family ties, but the clan still sees themselves as one extended family.
> 
> The idea for this AU first came up eons ago, or so it seems, when Holly (geniewithwifi) was looking for suggestions. Mel (Mel_Sanfo) and I sort of ran with some thoughts and everyone pretty much begged Masque (thatmasquedgirl) to write it. I suppose that could still happen and I champion it because I am certain my wifey’s version would be 10x better.
> 
> Anyway, fast forward a little bit and OFBB Round 3 was announced. I really wanted to give it a try and I went looking for an idea that could reach the word count. It was then that I remembered this AU and well as things often do, the spiral began. Very special thanks to Rebecca (nvwhovian1) for early encouragement and beta-ing and Masque and my beloved Mind-Twin, Loke, for bouncing ideas off of; this would not be happening without you guys.
> 
> And an extra special shout out to [funstory](http://funstory.tumblr.com/) for making me such a lovely fanfic art piece.
> 
>  __  
> 

_994_

His heart felt heavy, as if it had gained the weight his broad, muscular frame took on each sun rise when it transformed into stone. All Oliver could think about as he soared through the air with Princess Caitlin in his arms was of the massive loss he'd be returning to – his once numerous clan reduced to a dozen unhatched eggs, his mentor, three younger brothers and their pet, Longbow; the castle they called home broken and scarred from battle.

His wings constricted, allowing him to pick up speed as his emotions threatened to swallow him whole. If not for the frightened gasp of the delicate human woman in his arms, Oliver may have allowed the searing pain to drop him from the sky. It would be as if he became one of the weapons that had ravaged his home – a sailing boulder tumbling from above with no care for itself or what laid within its path.

The burning core of a gargoyle's nature was the instinct to protect – their clan and their home, and by extension the humans with whom they shared it. Though the Princess had been wary of his kind, she had not been the one to betray them. That dubious distinction fell on the human who’d been their most trusted ally, the captain of the Princess’s guard, a man that had sworn allegiance to her just as he’d vowed brotherhood to his clan. Oliver trusted Slade as if he’d been a gargoyle, a mistake that cost him and the Princess dearly. Castle Wyvern had been breached and the invading army had slaughtered most of their families.

Sighting the enemy’s encampment Oliver took note of their scattering forces and felt a sense of pride fill him. He’d been denied his vengeance as Slade and the Viking leader, Hakon, turned on each other – each shouting that the other was responsible for smashing his clan to pieces, shoving one another until they went tumbling over the cliff’s edge with the Princess caught between them. He had only had a moment to react, to choose: save an innocent or capture one of the men so that he could unleash his rage and heartbreak upon them.

Either choice would have cost him a piece of his soul, but Oliver could not deny his purpose, so when he lunged forward over the edge, his clawed hand clasped around the rope used to bind the Princess. The rough-hewed material gave a bit under the sharp ends of his hand, but held long enough for him to lift the Princess to safety. He secured her from the cliff’s edge before slicing through the rope with his claws, freeing her. It was only after that task was complete that Oliver allowed himself to roar out his frustration.

He had wanted to end his enemy, to make them feel physically the pain that ravaged his heart … his clan, his Angel of the Night … his entire world was lost to him.

Oliver’s wings fluttered as he landed. He made sure the Princess was steady on her feet before stepping back from her and wrapping his wings around himself. He expected her to retreat from him, but instead she looked up at him with wide, sad dark eyes. “Oliver,” she said his name softly, for the first time without any fear or reserve, as she reached out to touch the stretch of his arm left exposed through his wings. Her eyes were wet and gleamed in the moonlight and her voice trembled as she spoke. “I cann’a say how sorry I am for your loss,” to emphasize her words the Princess squeezed his forearm gently, “nor how grateful I am for saving my life.”

Oliver sighed, uncertain how accept the kindness she offered when his heart felt cold and useless. A young, distressed voice called out his name saving him from having to figure out how to respond to the Princess. The dark headed boy raced towards them, his face red and blotchy; tear tracks smeared down his dirty cheeks. For the most part human features were not distinct enough for Oliver to tell them apart easily but he recognized the youth as the refugee, Ronnie, who’d been fascinated by his kind. His mother’s ignorance is what caused the discord that led him to order the surviving members of his clan into the rookery. A punishment that saved their lives.

“Hurry,” the lad pleaded, tugging on his wing. “Your friends,” he hiccupped in anguish through panting breaths, “need you.” Oliver growled, his eyes flashing a hot white, as he stalked towards the center of the encampment with the boy on his heels.

Humans skittered out of his path and Oliver couldn’t tell if they were gasping in fear of him or not, not that he cared. What was left of his family needed him and Oliver had to get to them – that was all that mattered.

The sight of his brothers frozen in stone at night stopped him in his tracks. His heart shuddered as Oliver reached out to drag his claws lightly over the shoulder of his mentor. Diggle’s form was hard and cold beneath his hand. “What sorcery is this?” he growled lowly, his eyes drifting over his stone encased brethren. As realization dawned that he was now truly alone in the world Oliver found himself unable to breathe.

An enraged voice filled the air, “Sorcery indeed! And now you shall join them,” the Mage seethed. The human’s usually pristine garb was torn and mud splattered.

Oliver turned, a harsh scowl drawn across his face, ready to rip the man to shreds. For the briefest of moments his own wrath was reflected back at him, charged blue eyes sparking before the man paled, his face going slack. “Princess,” he gasped, dropping the book he’d been clutching, clearly awed by seeing her standing before him. “You’re … you’re alive.”

“Oh Harrison,” the Princess sighed stepping forward to take in the unnaturally stilled gargoyles. “What have you done?”

“I … I thought you were dead,” he sputtered. “In my grief,” the Mage began to explain, but Oliver had no use for his excuses. The man stopped speaking when Oliver wrenched him violently off the ground, “Turn them back,” he ordered giving the man a fierce shake before dropping him unceremoniously to the ground.

The Mage reached for his spellbook, the Grimorum Arcanorum, with shaking fingers. His entire being trembled as he searched through the pages of his book. “No, no, no,” he cried out, sorrow contorting his face. “The page with the counter spell was burned,” the Mage stated, his voice cracking with regret.

The Princess kneeled beside him, resting a soothing hand on his shoulder she queried, “They’re stone forever?”

The Mage shook his head. “They’ll sleep ‘til the castle rises above the clouds.”

Oliver snarled at the news. That occurrence seemed near impossible to him so his brethren’s plight might as well be forever. They were trapped and he was alone with no guarantee that any of the eggs in the rookery, including his parents’ last egg, would survive or be female; meaning his clan could very well end with him.

He felt the Princess’s hands cup one of his own, drawing him out of his morbid thoughts. “I’m so sorry Oliver.” Her heartfelt sympathy was not enough to breach his tempestuous emotions. He merely shifted out from underneath her touch and crossed over to the chiseled sculpture of his mentor.

“Old friend,” he said reverently, his voice heavy with loss before lifting the stone mass. His muscles strained under the weight, but he paid the stress no mind as he started towards the castle. Oliver heard clattering behind him. He turned just enough to see the castle’s remaining inhabitants and the refugees they’d taken in begin to work the other gargoyles into wagons. Oliver was torn over the humans touching his clan given the Mage’s culpability for trapping them, but the care they were taking stayed his tongue. He was strong and if he had the time he’d be able to move each of his brothers back to their home, but he was determined to have matters settled before dawn broke. He would need human assistance to see to that so he proceeded towards Castle Wyvern without a word.

An hour before sunrise his brothers had all been mounted around the castle’s central tower and Princess Caitlin had vowed to look after the clan’s eggs, with special care to ensure the survival of his parents’ egg. With that promise secured, Oliver requested the Mage to, “Cast your spell one more time.”

Kneeling on his perch, Oliver looked out past the walls of the castle and to the rugged land that surrounded his home. The Mage’s voice was strong and clear as he gazed up to the starry night sky for what he believed would be the last time.

_“Dormiatis dum castellum super nubes ascendat.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t have a posting schedule for this yet. I’ve never actually done one of those. I find the thought intimidating but it might help keep me on task. I am currently writing chapter six and will be going back with the help of my lovely beta to review earlier chapters before they get posted. Chapter 1 will up in the next few days since the prologue is so short, but after that … we’ll be playing it by ear, especially since I’ll be doing some traveling this month.


	2. Chapter 1: Awakening, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clan awakens to a whole new world.

_24 Months Ago_

The man pulled the overgrown ivy from the figure mounted on the tallest parapet of the castle he’d traversed with an excited spring in his step. The massive figure rested in a protective crouch over its domain, exuding nobility. “Magnificent,” he murmured as he freed the statute from the winding vine attempting to consume it. The stone was rough, but warm from the sunshine underneath his fingers. The strong jaw and wide shoulders fit the image of a warrior and perfectly complimented the rough landscape in which it resided.   

The uninhabited countryside that surrounded the crumbling castle had a stark beauty that he could admire, but Tommy Merlyn much preferred the cluttered cityscape of his view back in Starling City. The spiraling towers of glass and metal which gleamed in the sunlight had always captivated him. As a young boy he wanted to one day own the tallest building in the city so that he could stand atop it and know that it was his; and know that everyone who looked upon it would see that he’d made his mark upon not just his city, but the world.

Taking a deep breath of the heather scented air, Tommy understood the appeal of the craggy, solitary vista that offered a mirror perfect reflection of the sky in the calm waters of the lake a few miles from the ancient stone monument in which he stood. Moving Wyvern Castle from the Highlands of Scotland to Starling City would be a massive and expensive undertaking, with only the promise of the fantastical.  Tommy had a reason to believe, a very persuasive one he’d seen with his own eyes, but it was still a gamble.

It was one thing to accept the impossible when confronted with the proof of it; it was another to accept without it. Helena was a reality, but magic and curses … they were still an unproven possibility. The temptation was too great and it was only money Tommy would be risking, with the reward of not only proof but allies unlike any other the world had to offer. Considering his company had earned billions of dollars spending a paltry few million on this venture seemed reasonable. Even if he only ended up with the most eccentric and expensive dwelling in Starling.

The quiet tread of expensive shoes reached his ears before his assistant’s profile appeared in his peripheral view. It was easy to confuse his number two as a captain of industry as the younger man tended to dress better than most of them. It was a very rare day when Cisco Ramon would be attired in anything other than a tailored suit – the high quality fabric usually ran dark – with a crisp white dress shirt, buttoned to the top with the only nod to him having something other than a straight-laced personality being the bright, colorful ties he wore. Today's selection was a nod to the land they were visiting, a brilliant golden tie with botanical drawing of a thistle running the length of it. While Tommy sometimes cringed at Cisco’s neckwear he always admired the precision needed to artfully knot them, he did not have the patience for that particular refinement. Invariably he wore his collar open, unless a tuxedo was necessary.

They shared dark locks, though Tommy preferred his trimmed fairly short while Cisco wore his shoulder length, though he habitually tied it back. He also had roughly four inches on his right-hand man. It was subtle tactic he’d picked up early in life, but he’d noted that people often deferred to the tallest person in the room if there were no other distinctions to separate them such as education or money. Unlike himself, Cisco claimed an Ivy League education - his degree embossed with Cornell’s seal, but there were very few who could rival Tommy in the area of money.

The moment Cisco had situated himself next to him Tommy instructed, “Start hiring crews, I want to begin as soon as possible.”

Dark eyes glanced at him with skepticism. “It may prove difficult to find the necessary manpower,” Cisco replied. His tone was respectful as he -- challenged wasn’t the right word, not that his assistant was incapable of such a feat. It had not happened often but Tommy appreciated that Cisco was too shrewd for a direct assault. His manner, more than his resume, had earned him the position by his side and one of his most important duties was to see the practicalities of any endeavor Tommy chose to undertake. The crossing of t’s and dotting of i’s were Cisco’s responsibilities. His commenting that, “The castle has a bad reputation and the locals consider it haunted,” was Cisco’s way of him informing him that there would be quite a few.

Undoubtedly all of them would be costly. With a grin, Tommy patted Cisco’s shoulder, “You know the answer to that, Cisco. Pay a man enough and he'll walk barefoot into Hell.”

* * *

 

After six and half weeks of around the clock work Wyvern Castle resided proudly on top of the tallest building in Starling City, Merlyn Global. Great care had been given to moving every last stone, repairing authentically the damage time and neglect had perpetrated upon the castle, and seeing to it that his new home had all of the latest technological advancements - some of which were only known to him and his research and development department.

Over a millennia after a grief mad mage cast his curse, Castle Wyvern had finally risen above the clouds.

The last of the gargoyles, the broad shouldered marvel he’d begun to uncover during his only visit to the castle’s ancestral home, had been secured in place just as a storm rolled in over the bay. Oppressive dark clouds crackled with electricity and Tommy could not help but sense magic in the air as what little of the sun he could make out began to dip behind the horizon. The slashing crevices of pink and orange stood out boldly against the amassing clouds. Rain started to ping against stone, but he did not move. Tommy stood transfixed as his charcoal suit dampened under the increasing mist. Lightning slashed across the sky as a loud crack reverberated through the air. For a moment he thought it was mere thunder but various degrees of fracture lines inundated the statute before him.  

His breath caught as the whole of the winged figure seemed to draw inward, as if inhaling, before it pushed outward with a fierce roar – stone chips flew everywhere and Tommy ducked his head to protect his eyes. The hunched gargoyle rose to its full height, its wings flapping experimentally, muscles stretching in a fluid fashion underneath the creature’s slate gray skin. He was pleased to have already learned something new about gargoyles, like humans, their skin tones were not all the same. Shaggy, ashy blonde hair hung over wide shoulders, the length of it stopping just above where its wings sprouted from his back. With his wings still poised open Tommy could not glimpse the gargoyles profile, but he suspected its jaw-line would be just as strong and chiseled looking as the rest of him.

Before he could speak Tommy heard the telltale splintering of stone - the other gargoyles awakening. The sounds pulled the behemoth from his perch, he leapt with no care, wings expanding to use the whipping wind to control his dead drop to the battlement below were the others had been placed. Seeing the creature’s powerful and precise movements excited Tommy even as he found himself amused by and pondering the chestnut loincloth secured around the creature’s waist with only a thick leather belt used to secure it. The clothing like gargoyle’s skin had been stone until only moments ago.

* * *

 

Oliver had never expected to break free of the endless sleep the Mage had cursed him to suffer; and honestly after losing so many of his clan, including his beloved Angel of the Night, he had no real wish to be free of his slumber. At least there he could dream of being reunited with those for which his heart ached.

He could not help the sense of melancholy that first assaulted him upon breaking free of his stone chrysalis. Oliver believed himself to be alone again, the sole survivor of the gargoyle race. It was a burden he had no desire to carry. That thought had barely flittered through his mind when a familiar and welcomed sound echoed from below him. The snapping of stone, the thin pieces of their encasement flying every which way, and the groans of emerging gargoyles rang in his ears. The others were with him.

_Alive_.

Joy suffused him, overwhelming any sense of his earlier sorrow, as he reveled in the notion of seeing members of his clan once again - in particularly his mentor and friend Diggle. As a warrior he would later berate himself for not taking in his surroundings, but in that moment all Oliver could think about was standing side-by-side with his brethren again. He bounded from his dais and into the cacophony of happy chatter as his brothers celebrated once again being with each other. He was welcomed excitedly into their number and as pleasant as it was to have his younger kin looking up at him in awe as they greeted him, it was Diggle clasping him in a welcoming embrace with his deep voice declaring, “Tis good to see you lad,” that truly settled Oliver, allowing him to believe the sight before his eyes. Though their numbers were small, his clan was together again.

It wasn’t all he wanted, but it was enough.

* * *

 

There was nothing Felicity Smoak liked more than solving a mystery, other than perhaps a well-designed piece of technology. Her academic prowess had earned her a full scholarship and she had fully intended to major in computer science with a specialty in cyber security, but an elective criminology class her freshman year had her altering her intended career path. She switched majors, though she had still left college with a minor in her original area of study, before tackling the police academy. If it hadn’t been for the yoga and kickboxing classes her roommate talked her into their second year, the physical aspect of being a police officer may have given her trouble; but Felicity approached everything with a quick mind and determined attitude. She mastered self-defense, tactical use and strategy, and excelled at the investigative element of the job; leading her to become the youngest detective in SCPD history.

She took pride in that and in her work. She believed in the motto ‘to protect and serve’ with every fiber of her being, which is why she had such problems with men like Tommy Merlyn who flirted with the law; believing somehow that they were above it. She had no doubt he’d done more than earn a few parking violations but his wealth and the variable fortress he’d built himself had always prevented anyone who investigated him from getting anything to stick.

Still, when the call came in of falling debris and potential shots fired at his building – the tallest in Starling, made even more conspicuous since he’d spent the past few weeks having an honest to God castle reconstructed on top of it – Felicity answered. Until she or another cop could prove otherwise Merlyn deserved the same protection that the innocent gawkers were in need of, even if they didn’t realize it, seeing how she’d nearly been crushed by a chunk of stone the size of a bolder. Even as she order people back, Felicity’s interest was captured by the claw marks, a few inches deep, she found embedded in the stone. What could have made them?

As expected she got the runaround, first from Merlyn’s aide and then from the billionaire himself, and multinational company or not, a private citizen repelling armed intruders in a corporate espionage bid felt a tad suspicious to Felicity. Bending the rules was easier for her in matters of public safety, after all urbanites shouldn’t have to worry about being pancaked when walking down the street where Merlyn Global was headquartered. At least that had seemed reasonable to her when she slinked off the elevator Mr. Ramon had escorted her to and started to sneak around the castle. She got a small eyeful of the disarray caused by the assault, but for the most part she was traversing dark passageways with just the high powered beam emitted by her phone’s flashlight function. Felicity was unsure if it was the earlier chaos or the ambiance that surrounded her but as she made her way up another flight of stairs she could have sworn she heard a growl.

Her heart rate spiked at the noise and she picked up her pace, moving towards the light at the top of the stairs. The archway led out to an open area of the castle, the storm that had rolled through earlier had left a cloudy sky but did not diminish the shimmering skyline. Though it was familiar sight, the city appeared almost otherworldly being viewed from within an ancient castle. Ducking into the corner on the other side of the doorway, Felicity exchanged her cell for her police issued Glock 22. She took a quick deep breath in and out to settle herself before jumping into a defensive stance in front of the doorway and ordering, “Police. Show yourself.”

There was another growl and bright, animal eyes flashed at about knee height in the darkness on the other side of the ingress. The thought, _BIG DOG_ , had just begun to form in Felicity’s mind when the animal moved out of the inky black causing her to gasp. Felicity desperately wanted to reject what she was seeing. The animal, more like creature-beast, wasn’t like anything she’d ever seen before. It appeared hairless and its smooth skin was the color of a bluebell flower. As it edged closer to her with a snarl, Felicity eased back but its massive three toed paws – with claw-like ends – ate up more ground than her tentative steps back. She didn’t want to move too quickly in fear that it would pounce on her. The beast looked to be well over two hundred pounds of pure muscle and its toes weren't the only sharp thing about it. Teeth, the front two lower ones stuck out over its lip, and the spike-like protrusion from its spine looked like they could inflict a lot of damage. Web-like ears twitched when she shakily said, "Nice doggy?"

Another growl sounded from behind her. Though Felicity loathed taking her eyes off the danger in front of her she pivoted to see what other hazard had come up behind her and was met with a massive gray chest. She’d barely begun to drag her eyes upward when her gun was yanked from her hands and crushed within a four fingered fist. “You’re trespassing,” a deep, agitated voice rumbled.

Felicity managed to take in broad shoulders and wings as she stepped back into the cold wall of the castle. She didn’t have a chance to catalogue more before she shifted, trying to put more distance between herself and the wingless creature, and fell through one of the embrasures along the parapet. Felicity wasn’t certain if the scream she released was because of the unimaginable beasts she’d encountered or the fact that she was falling from a 110 story building. Of all the things to cross her mind in the moment, the fact that she was grateful that she never wore her glasses on duty was beyond ridiculous.

Felicity lost the sound of her own scream to the whoosh of air as it raced past her. The feeling of weightless falling was terrifyingly disconcerting - she could see her home reflected in the windows of the building as she plummeted towards certain death - it was a beautifully macabre final moment.

Except it wasn't.

Taloned hands reached out towards her and the monstrous face she had encountered mere seconds ago was etched with concern and determination. Long, muscular arms roped around her and pulled Felicity in close to a cool hard chest. Her arms chained around the creature's neck as its wings snapped out to their full span. She watched in fascination as the wings fluttered, navigating drafts of wind with ease and a long tail swished, offering counter balance as they soared safely to a ledge a good twenty stories from the ground.

Felicity couldn't help the side steps she took, putting some distance between her and the creature, once her feet were firmly underneath her again. It wasn't just her earlier fear, but the size of whatever was standing next to her, the space was necessary if she wanted to look it in the face without severe neck strain. At 5'5 Felicity was about average height for a female but she nevertheless had always felt short, now staring up at a tower of brute strength that all but walked out of the pages of mythology she felt downright tiny by comparison.

"What— _who_ are you?" her voice shook with her the question as her heart continued its frantic beat. Whatever it was, it has saved her life instead of letting her fall to her death. For as strange as it looked, and as much as it and its dog-like companion frightened her, Felicity let that thought soothe the worst of her fears.

"I am a gargoyle," a masculine voice huffed. After landing it -- _he_ Felicity corrected herself even as she marveled at him speaking to her -- had folded his wings around himself. They hung around his large frame like a protective cape, covering almost every inch of his bulky form. There was wariness in his eyes. Felicity remembered them flashing white up in the castle, but now the irises were a mesmerizing shade of blue. They were deep set in his face, causing his smooth high forehead to appear more prominent, the expanse of which ended with two sharp ridges on either side of his head; their subtle movement made her think of them as expressive eyebrows. "And my name is Oliver." Felicity was unable to do much more than gawk at the at the gargoyle; for as brilliant as her mother like to brag that she was, even she needed some time to accept the impossible.

* * *

 

Fear had quickly morphed into wonder on the face of human female he'd encountered sneaking around the castle, leaving Oliver uncertain of how to deal with her. Luminescent blue eyes continued to watch him, even as the others joined them. The skin around Oliver's neck still tingled from where Felicity -- he couldn't help but think the name suited the blonde -- had touched him while clinging to his back as he climbed up the side of the building and back into the castle.

Though he'd sworn not to trust another human again, at least not easily, Oliver found himself answering her questions and confiding the circumstances of their betrayal. He couldn't look at the petite, inquisitive woman and see a threat, though with the safety of his clan being of the utmost importance he knew he could not divulge their vulnerability to the dawn. As such Oliver tried to view his encroaching kin as a human might. He was the largest of his brothers in both height, width and wingspan though his mentor Diggle was nearly his equal in those regards, however, his strength had faded a bit with age. It was because of that and having been left blind in his left eye following a battle with the Archmage, that he was the only surviving member of the clan to carry a human weapon – a short sword. Diggle’s facial features were not overly distinct like Roy’s; the young red skinned gargoyle had a short pointed nose over a long beak-like mouth. Both he and Roy had wild manes of hair, the lad’s was a true shade of dark brown unlike Oliver’s own sandy locks, and it was paired with two horns that stuck up out of his forehead with a backwards bent two-thirds up their length. Diggle’s three small horns on each side of his forehead were far less severe, even though he had a receding hairline of short black hair laced with silver.

Diggle also dressed in more than just a loincloth unlike the rest of his kin. The elder gargoyle covered his chest with a dark brown tunic and wore golden trousers underneath his waistcloth. None of them had the same coloring: Barry was bluish green with the interior of wings more green than blue; Curtis was khaki colored and had the most distinctive wings - they were attached to his arms and had webbing laced throughout; and Diggle was brown with his underwing having a ruddy orange coloring.

There had been very few humans in his time that had looked at his kind and not seen them as monstrous with their features so sharp and different from humanity. Felicity, however, took in their differences with awe. She did not blanch at the three spikey protrusions in the center of Barry’s head which started at the top of his forehead and crested up over his skull, or at Curtis’s large round eyes which took up most of his face. Her open fascination with them reminded him of the boy, Ronnie. Was the gratitude he felt towards the lad influencing how he saw the woman in front of him?

Oliver wasn’t certain, but seeing Felicity’s small rounded ear as she tucked some hair behind it before answering Diggle’s, “What exactly does a _detective_ do, lass?” he couldn’t help but notice how all his clan-mates save Barry had elfin-like pointed ears. His food obsessed brother had ears that looked like a small set of tri-tipped webbed wings, similar to a bat’s wing.

“Well, uh,” she replied with a soft laugh, “when somebody does something wrong, I find out who and arrest them.” Felicity emphasized the word arrest by cupping her right hand over her left wrist, making Oliver think of manacles.

“Who says what’s wrong?” he queried.

“We have a justice system,” Felicity answered. “Laws, penalties, assessments; but ultimately the people decide.”

“You mean the _humans_ decide,” Oliver grumbled. What good were the laws she spoke of when humans could not be trusted? When their rules so often went against the gargoyle nature? Felicity started to protest his clear distaste but Oliver noted that sunrise was nearly upon them and cut her off with a harsh, “You need to leave.”

She pouted slightly, but brushed aside his stern manner and asked hopefully, “Will I see you again?” Oliver sighed, uncertain how to answer her. Felicity took that as an opening and pressed, “You need to learn more about the world as it is now. Let me show you Starling?” she offered. “I mean it’s only fair right? Since you saved my life.”

“If we are to live in this new world, understanding it would be useful,” Oliver conceded.

She beamed up at him; her enthusiasm was so dazzling that it seemed like what Oliver imagine sunlight to be. “Great! It’s my day off. Maybe we can meet this afternoon—”

“In the evening,” he countered. “After sunset.”

Felicity cast a quick look to the others, but his brothers did not give any response to his demand. “Okay,” she replied with a shrug her shoulders, “tonight.”

“We’ll meet on that rooftop,” Oliver instructed, pointing to the shorter building across the way.

Felicity did not argue with his requested meeting spot. “Until this evening then,” she said and headed towards the doorway he and Longbow had first encountered her. She paused before the opening and looked back at them all over her shoulder and offered them a wave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was thinking of an every two week posting schedule, but I'll be in Vegas for a conference then. Between prep for that, the actual travel (we're driving!), and chiseling away at future chapters I don't anticipate the next update to be until the last week in June sometime.


	3. Chapter 2: Awakening, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver tours Starling City with Felicity and other stuff happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Road trip/conference was amazing – I am in love with Wyoming and Utah (if I could move to Provo I would!), but my lovely beta Becky can keep Vegas. This will probably be the longest individual chapter of this fic, well unless anticipated chapters 7-9 get away from me. I may have to travel again in early July, a much shorter trip this time, just to NY so I don't know if that will effect my hope/plan of posting every two weeks or not -- it depends how much progress I can make on the outstanding chapters. I didn't get a lick of writing time in during my recent travels so I'm still stuck halfway through chapter 7. On a happier note, I do have some gorgeous new art to share with you all thanks to my lovely and talented wifey, Lexi ([AlexiaBlackbriar13](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexiaBlackbriar13/pseuds/AlexiaBlackbriar13)).
> 
>  

Oliver only needed to look out over the expanse of Starling City from his perch atop the castle to know that the world had changed drastically.  The weapons they faced the night before, small metal objects that shot beams of lights Tommy Merlyn referred to as lasers, was only one tangible difference he had experienced in the short time he’d been awake. Talk of technology, little pieces of magic that held equivalents of great libraries, was something he struggled to understand. Even with the living tapestry on Merlyn’s wall – the so called television – on which Merlyn played back their battle, Oliver grappled with the enormity of this advanced age.

He felt a debt of gratitude to Merlyn for allowing his curiosity in a long ago tale to inspire taking a chance to lift their curse. Oliver knew that without the monumental efforts Merlyn had undertaken, he and his clan would still be trapped in stone. And yet, there was something about the man’s countenance that made Oliver question his motives. Unlike like the detective he encountered within the castle last night, he only sensed a veneer of sincerity to Merlyn. Or it could be the actions of the last man he’d trusted making him overly wary. Either way, until he could get a better grasp upon this new city they were to call home and those who inhabited it, Oliver felt caution was in order.

The last time he left the castle on a mission, his clan had been devastated. Doing as Merlyn asked; going after what he termed flash drives - held in three different locations - would separate his brothers and leave the castle undefended. It was a risk he was unwilling to take. Oliver felt little better giving Roy, Barry and Curtis permission to explore the city together as long as they did not stray too far from the castle. Hiding away in their home would do them no good. If they were to live in this new world, they needed to learn to navigate it without being seen.

Oliver shook those thoughts from his head as he took a final swoop around the roof he’d indicated to Felicity. The ambient light of the city allowed him to see her clearly standing alone as she waited for him. Putting any sort of faith into an unknown individual, particularly a human, was a dangerous calculation; but Oliver felt a connection to the detective as they were both protectors.

He landed on the rooftop silently, out of sight of Felicity, so he could make his approach unbeknownst to her. Just because it appeared that she was alone, did not mean that was the case. He’d preached prudence to his brothers; as their leader, Oliver knew he should follow his own advice.

“Felicity,” he hailed, emerging out of the shadows.

Felicity let out a short gasp of surprise, her periwinkle eyes widening as she soaked him again. The way her eyes kept drifting to his wings, she seemed almost disappointed that they were not open to their full span. “I was starting to doubt you’d come,” she greeted him with a nervous chuckle and wave of her hand.

Diggle dropped down unexpectedly, preventing Oliver from replying. His friend’s sudden appearance startled Felicity, causing her to edge closer to him. Though he was uncertain about trusting her, it seemed that she trusted him; at least when it came to being in the presence of other gargoyles.  “What are you doing here?” he queried.

“Making certain you’ve not walked into a trap,” Diggle replied as he folded his wings over his chest.

Over her fright, Felicity turned to stand square to Diggle and remarked, “Not very trusting.”

“That’s earned lass.”

Her eyes flashed as her chin rose slightly, but she conceded the point before asking, “Are you joining us on this tour?”

“No,” Diggle replied as he shuffled towards the ledge. “Now that I know you’ve kept your word I’ll be returning to the castle to see it’s defended.” His mentor leapt up onto the ledge, his wings expanding out as he did. Diggle cast a quick look over his shoulder and without words conveyed the message for Oliver to be mindful. An ambush, they both knew, was still possible.

Satisfied, Diggle allowed a strong blast of air to lift him and he used the winds to glide back towards the castle. “I don’t know that I’ll ever get use to that,” Felicity murmured in awe as she watched Diggle soaring. She waited until Diggle landed on one of the castle’s parapets before making Oliver the center of her focus again. “Not sure how we’re going to move you around down there.”

“Not to worry,” Oliver replied opening his wings.

“It may have escaped your notice, but I don’t come with pair of wings.”

He chuckled. It was a foreign sound to his own ears. Not that he was ill-humored. Oliver had often found joy in life and had found delight with another, but after returning to the near total annihilation of his clan, he figured he was done experiencing amusement. That Felicity had given him that so quickly … it was an unexpected gift. “I noticed,” Oliver assured her.

“Then how—” Oliver cut off her question but lifting Felicity into his arms and bringing her close to his chest.

A flush spread over her cheeks as she gazed up at him. “I’m kind of afraid of heights,” Felicity admitted as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“I won’t drop you,” he vowed as he allowed a gust to carry them up into the night air.

* * *

 

Felicity tensed at the sound of a lone pair of feet hitting the worn, but well-maintained jogging path in Plesa, the city’s central park. She shifted to a crouch and prepared to pounce defensively if needed. The unsuspecting jogger bit back a yelp after taking notice of her. He ran in place as he goggled at the picture she made squatting next to a stone figure.  “I don’t think,” he panted with a southern accent - clearly a transplanted citizen of Starling - “I’ve noticed that statute before. And I’ve run this path for the past two years.”

“This park is full of surprises,” she offered with her best ‘who’d of thought it’ chuckle, hoping the runner would move on without further comment. Dark eyes trailed over a stone gargoyle once more before he shrugged his shoulders and continued on his way. Felicity let out a sigh of relief as she leaned back against Oliver’s solid form. His encasement was cool against her back and Felicity found herself missing the warmth he radiated when he was flesh.

And how crazy was that? she thought again. Felicity had been thrown for a loop upon learning that creatures like gargoyles existed, but the discovery that the species turned to stone during the day was not only highly inconvenient given the armed pursuers they’d met in the park; but a shock. One minute she’d been struggling to haul a drugged Oliver through a thicket of trees and underbrush, and the next he was wheezing out, “Too late,” as he dropped to the ground. She fought him on that assessment - granted they were in some dire straits with him tranquilized and her having lost her weapon - but Felicity had never been one to give up or back down. There was always another way; she only needed to find it.

Of course there had been no way to anticipate that her sole means of backup, she had already vowed never to leave her cell again when meeting with the gargoyles, would turn to stone before her eyes. Oliver was completely defenseless in that state. If she’d had more time to freak out about that earlier Felicity would have, but luck continued to conspire against her. The tracker she found on Oliver and transferred to a stray dog had not led their attackers far enough afield. She was reacting before she had a plan in place, drawing their assailants’ attention to her and away from a frozen Oliver.

The park became an asset and she managed to use the well-known nooks and crannies to divide the team tracking her and disable them one-by-one. Felicity managed to get soaked - she was grateful for the warm beams of sunlight filtering through the trees as she guarded Oliver - in the process and she didn’t look forward to hearing speculation about the boathouse that exploded amongst the ranks of her police brethren later. She had already concluded before meeting Oliver on the roof the night before that there would be a lot she’d have to leave unsaid in the coming days. The world wasn’t ready for gargoyles, and now knowing their vulnerability Felicity was determined to keep them safe.

She wished again for her phone, it would have allowed her to do research while she waited for Oliver to wake, but as she shifted again the damp material of her jeans reminded Felicity that the device would have been ruined in her swim. She made a mental note for future gargoyle occasions: phone off, safely ensconced in a plastic baggie. That way it would actually work if she needed it.

Resolved not to waste her entire day, Felicity started to consider the story she’d use in her report about losing her backup piece. Her captain was not going to be happy about that and the reprimand she’d receive was undoubtedly going to be unpleasant. “You’re so going to owe me,” she muttered, poking her elbow into Oliver. Striking the hard, solid surface of his stone skin made pain shoot throughout her arm. Felicity bit back a cry as she rubbed at the painful spot on right arm. “Double.”

* * *

 

As the sun dipped behind the horizon, fissures broke out like spider webs across the breadth of Oliver’s form. It was hard to describe, even to his kin, the sensation of waking from stone sleep. As long as a gargoyle was breathing, whatever ailment they suffered healed during the day. It went beyond physical rejuvenation or restoration; there was usually a peacefulness to their sleep that could clear most disturbances from their mind. He’d only found two things sleep could not help ease: the sense of danger and white-hot rage.

Emerging from his nightly cocoon Oliver’s senses were on full alert, his coiled muscles ready to release should a threat present itself. Given the circumstances of how he dropped into slumber Oliver had honestly not anticipated seeing the night sky again. To find himself alive and whole, with Felicity at his side relief written in her smile was a marvel.

That a tiny _human_ he barely knew had risked her life to protect him -- the ache in his heart from Slade’s betrayal and the Mage’s rash actions, which his long sleep had eased the most ragged edges of, began to truly heal with the knowledge that there was still honor in mankind if you knew where to look and if one was open to seeing it. That sentiment reminded Oliver of a comment Felicity made about the city itself last night. It didn’t always show a pretty face, she’d told him, but it was worth protecting. He’d seen the worst of mankind, but looking into Felicity’s exhausted eyes as she confirmed that she’d spent the day watching over him, Oliver felt like he was genuinely experiencing the best of them for the first time.

He took great satisfaction in the fact that Felicity did not flinch at his touch. In fact she seemed to lean into his hand, as he told her, “You need to rest.”

“Probably,” she agreed through a yawn with a slight nod, but her eyes turned sharp again when he told her that he planned to return to the castle.

“Oliver there’s no way to know how that tracker got placed on you. I know Merlyn’s responsible for you being here, being alive … or awake, or I don’t know _animated_ again,” Felicity babbled as she scrubbed her eyes. “I get why you’d be grateful to him but you have be careful about trusting him. He’s charming and can be generous, but he’s tricky and ruthless too, and I don’t want to see him use you.”

Her tone was earnest and the appeal heartfelt. It was obvious to Oliver that Felicity was wary of Merlyn. Her take on the man added weight to his own misgivings, but the castle was his home. It was his to protect, as the city was Felicity’s and more importantly his clan was there, worried and waiting for him. When he said as much Felicity relented, but implored him to be vigilant in Merlyn’s presence. Oliver assured her that he would and given the danger they faced the night before he got Felicity to agree, after a short argument about her ability to look out for herself, to him shadowing her home.

It was fortuitous that Felicity’s home, an apartment she called it, was on the top floor of the building with a skylight. He had not understood the term, but when he caught sight of Felicity entering the dwelling from a window in the roof he put the pieces together. He watched as a small, furry form raced towards her and wound itself between her legs. Oliver stayed long enough to see her bend over to pick up the animal, cuddling it to her chest before the light from the hallway disappeared as her door closed and the apartment fell dark.

As he circled away from the building and back towards the castle concern for Felicity weighed on his mind. She had proven herself capable, but their attackers had been persistent. Oliver had his brothers to rely on; he had no idea if there was anyone Felicity could depend upon. He hated the idea of leaving her vulnerable.

The only solace Oliver had during his trip back to the castle was the hopeful way Felicity had asked, “I’ll see you tomorrow night, right?” before he’d taken to the sky to see her home. He would see with his own eyes the following evening that Felicity was as he left her. In fact, she would be better after a night’s rest.

His trepidation got swept aside in a tide of joyful greetings from his brothers upon his return. Longbow, jumped up on his hind legs so his massive front paws braced against his chest as the mutt licked at his chin as his clan surrounded him, bombarding him with questions about why he hadn’t returned while Barry and Curtis talked over his explanation with a recounting of their explorations and a piece of machinery called a motorcycle.

Oliver had been gearing up to lecture his young kin about risk they’d taken being seen when Merlyn interrupted them. He fought back his reflex to frown at the man as Oliver did not want Merlyn to be able to gage how he perceived him. For his part, Merlyn was all congeniality as he welcomed him back, though Oliver found his smile - unlike Felicity’s - to be predatory and false. Everything about Tommy Merlyn, from his charcoal suit to his genial charm, came off as calculated.

“There is someone anxious to see you,” Merlyn’s tone was warm and his grey eyes danced with delight. Oliver could see the appeal of his veneer, but he did not trust it.

But as a familiar form slipped from the shadows his world narrowed down to nothing but the vision in front of him. The raven haired warrior who’d captured his heart, who he’d believed smashed to fragments with the remainder of their clan, stood beautifully before him. Oliver barely registered the happy shouts of “Helena!” as Diggle swooped her up in a joyful embrace as the others danced around them, awaiting their turn to greet their sister.

Helena looked exactly as he remembered her. Her trim form remained sharp and honed for battle, the gold bracelet he’d made for her still coiled around her upper left arm - it offset her lavender skin gorgeously. Her blue eyes shone with merriment below the crown she had fashioned herself, along with a pair of hoop earrings.

Her voice was music to Oliver’s ears, a cherished sound he thought lost to him. His heart constricted, afraid to believe what he was witnessing because he could not understand how she survived. Diggle had been the only one to accompany him the night they’d been betrayed and the others had only lived because he’d ordered them to the rookery as punishment for their antics with the refugees.

His voice shook with emotion as he crooned lowly, “My Angel of the Night?” Helena’s eyes went wide and started to shimmer with unshed tears at the use of his endearment for her. The others immediately stepped back, giving her room to cross the short distance that separated them. He reacted without thought, lifting his hand to cup her cheek, and Helena nuzzled his palm as they continued to erase the space between them.

“Oliver,” she sighed wrapping her arms around him. With his free arm he encircled her frame, holding Helena close against him. Oliver relished the feel of being in his beloved’s presence once again.

Awed by the moment he asked, “How?”

“Merlyn,” she answered with quick glance to the human over her shoulder.

“I’d acquired a magnificent statue a few years back,” Merlyn explained. He held Oliver’s gaze as he continued. “After you all awoke, I thought bringing her here might have the same outcome. I am pleased the inclination paid off.”

Helena dragged a hand low across his back to his front drawing his attention back to her, her talons drew gently up his chest causing a slight shudder throughout his body, before she brought her hand up to rest against his jaw.  “We owe him much Oliver,” Helena murmured.

Oliver saw something else in her iridescent eyes, something beyond her love for him, if it had been any other he would have called it a darkness. But that was not _his_ Helena so he chocked it up to her settling into a new time and though his instincts screamed otherwise, Oliver could not deny the great gift of having his love back in his arms.  “Yes,” he agreed begrudgingly, keeping Helena his focus, “we do.”

Something flared in her eyes - triumph perhaps - as she spoke, “I know just the way to repay Merlyn’s kindness. While we awaited your return we spoke of the attack on the castle and the flash drives stolen.”

Oliver could not stop his frown of displeasure. He sensed Merlyn’s manipulation of the situation, of Helena and it grated him. He had trouble stomaching the appreciation he owed the human when he could not find it in himself to trust the man. There had been little he’d denied Helena when she asked, and while he desperately wanted to say no to this request - had she not argued their last night together that human affairs were not their concerns - Oliver found himself agreeing to aid Merlyn because the last time he denied Helena he thought she had been lost to him forever. It was a regret he believed he’d have to live with forever, a pain that would never heal and, yet, miraculously he had a chance to correct that mistake. Misgivings or not, Oliver could not allow that opportunity to escape him.

* * *

 

After a quick snuggle with Cagney and splitting a can of tuna with the stray cat that had adopted her, Felicity peeled off her jeans, set her alarm, and crawled into bed to sleep off the brunt of her exhaustion. Knowing that she had to meet with her captain before her shift, Felicity she left for the precinct extra early so she could still make a stop at Jitters. She needed at least one decent cup of coffee a day, one which she usually brewed herself, but after yesterday Felicity knew her morning cup needed an extra shot or two of espresso. Her favorite barista, Kendra, was behind the counter that morning -- over the eight months she had been working at Jitters the striking beauty with a wide smile, had learned to anticipate her order just by looking at her, something Felicity was extremely grateful for when the extra-large, plain latte with two additional shots was waiting for her when she reached the counter instead of having to place an order. “You’re my hero,” she said appreciatively as Kendra ran her card.

“Are you talking to me or the coffee?” the barista asked with a good-natured laugh.

“Both,” she replied with a sheepish shrug of her shoulders as she took her first bracing slip of her drink. The caffeine helped fortify her for the meeting with her captain which Felicity had predicted correctly on how things shook out. She bristled under the thought of her first write up and the added punishment of being assigned to babysit the new transfer when they arrived next week. The headaches were worth it though because Oliver was safe, at least for now.

It was that sentiment and her mistrust of Tommy Merlyn that had her working a stop at Palmer Technologies into her already hectic day of follow up on her open cases. Unlike Merlyn, Ray Palmer came across as honest, not to mention awkward. He also got super amped up when he realized that she could follow his techno-speak. Under normal circumstances Felicity would have enjoyed delving back into that world, but after learning that the programming on the flash drives Merlyn was telling Oliver had been stolen was proprietary to PT she’d been itching to leave so that she could share the truth with the gargoyles. She didn’t want them acting on false information.

Extracting herself from Palmer had been more difficult than Felicity had anticipated. The dark-haired genius trailed her through his headquarters, continuing their conversation all the way to company’s visitors parking garage. He was still talking as she climbed into her bright red Mini Cooper. “Look, Mr. Palmer-”

“Ray,” he insisted again with a toothy smile.

“ _Ray_ ,” she acquiesced her tone just shy of long-suffering, “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I am on duty and have places to be.”  The sun had gone down while she’d been in the building and she needed to get to Oliver before Merlyn talked him into doing anything foolish. Like breaking into Palmer Technologies to reclaim supposedly stolen proprietary technology.

His face fell and his shoulders stooped as he let out a disappointed, “Oh, of course.” The hangdog expression only last a moment before he brighten again, bringing his hand to rest on her open car door. “You’re welcome back anytime Detective.”

Feeling like she kicked a puppy she replied, “It’s Felicity, and I might just take you up on your generous offer.”

His smile returned full force then and he swung her door wider. “Until then Felicity.”

“Ray,” she said with a nod as means of farewell. The tech guru shut her door and offered a wave as her engine purred to life. Felicity returned the gesture before backing out of the parking spot. She didn’t look forward to fighting rush hour traffic, even if it was only forty blocks to get to the Merlyn Global building. Felicity knew well enough that harried drivers would ignore her undercover vehicle, unwilling to accept that the police siren was being emitted from her small car. She’d received plenty of razzing about it from her fellow officers, but she remained stubborn about giving up her beloved Mini.

Her prediction had been spot on; after twenty minutes got her roughly fifteen blocks and gifted her with a low thrum of a headache from the blaring siren.  Felicity considered silencing the ignored alarm when her radio squawked to life announcing heists at three Palmer Tech locations including the one she’d just left. “Son of bitch,” she cursed under her breath as she laid on her horn and stopped playing nice with the horde of commuters that surrounded her.

She was on the receiving end of a number angry shouts and rude gestures, but her aggressive maneuvering allowed her to navigate the clogged streets with more progress, she ate up the final twenty plus blocks in ten minutes. Ignoring the no parking signs and the burst of annoyed horns as she popped out of her car, Felicity raced through the wide plaza entry to the Merlyn Global building. She’d dug her badge out, so she could flash it at the guard, before bounding through the security turnstile. The high end machine beeped its notice of unauthorized access in tandem with the sentry barking out, “Hey!”

Felicity jabbed the elevator button and was thankful when one slid open immediately. The building’s public access elevator wouldn’t get her all the way up to the castle, meaning she’d have to hack a keypad into the stairwell and climb. She wasn’t thrilled by the idea of the unexpected cardio but she preferred it to the anxious wait on the upward ascent of the elevator. Not wanting to expend too much energy unnecessarily Felicity tapped her foot as the floors crawled slowly by.

The moment the doors began to slide open Felicity edged herself out, her phone had replaced her badge during the seemly endless ride up, her fingers continued to fly as she  worked her way to a stairway. She cracked the security just as she reached the doorway and threw up a fist in celebration as she flipped the phone in her other hand pressing it to the pad to scan. The lock released allowing her to push open the door. Felicity took a second to stare up at the twisting row of steps - they just kept going - and had a momentary flash of Escher’s famous painting before she shook the fanciful notion from her mind as she tackled the first flight of stairs.

Sounds of fighting got louder the closer Felicity got to the building’s uppermost echelon. Though she was panting the odd gunfire sounds she heard kept her pressing forward with speed. She was determined to reach Oliver and the other gargoyles and to stop Merlyn from causing them more harm. When she finally surged into the main open air courtyard of the castle the sight that Felicity beheld caused her to come to an abrupt stop. The gargoyles soared in the air battling metal versions of Oliver – her earlier conversation with Ray Palmer flashed through her mind – AI programming code. **Robots**.

 _Frakking robots_.

The sci-fi geek in her was awed. That sentiment was quickly replaced when Felicity watched horrified as the red skinned gargoyle, Roy if she remembered correctly, got hit low on his wing where it connect to his back by laser fire. The blast caused him to tumble from the sky and slam into a stone battlement. _Lasers_ , no wonder the gunfire sounded off Felicity thought as she finally moved, heading towards the unconscious gargoyle.

She didn’t get the chance to reach him, as the battle between the older gargoyle Diggle and another machine crossed in front of her. The blade of his sword cut halfway through a metal arm with a screech. Felicity wasn’t certain what her gun could do against the machine but she drew hers to take a shot at the robot heading towards Roy. The dog-like creature Oliver called Longbow jumped from above, landing on the encroaching machine a few feet from the downed gargoyle. Its strong jaw tore into the robot’s neck, and with a few sharp tugs, the automaton was beheaded.

Diggle used his considerable strength to split the machine he was battling jaggedly down the middle. Sparks flew and the bitter scent of melting rubber filled the air around her as the smallest gargoyle managed to crash two air-bound robots together. The collision resulted in a concussive blast that threw him into one of the towers. Felicity flinched as he hit the ground. She was torn as to whether she should attempt to stand guard over him or Roy, but when she caught Merlyn out of the corner of her eye Felicity figured she’d be more useful and successful handing the human threat.

Merlyn was going for a weapon, by the looks of it, it was a laser gun similar to the ones in use by the robots and Felicity succeeded at shooting the weapon from his hands. “I’d think carefully about reaching for another one,” she warned him, as she kept him in her sights.

“You’re sure this is the play you want to make Detective?” Merlyn asked as he raised his hands just above his shoulders, palms facing out towards her. His tone clearly indicated that he wouldn't be disturbed by her answer, no matter what it turned out to be.  

“I’ve been looking forward to arresting you,” she replied biting back a smile.

He sighed, “So be it,” before turning around slowly and placing his hands behind his back. Felicity holstered her gun and stepped toward Merlyn, reading him his rights, as she withdrew her handcuffs. She’d just finished cuffing the billionaire when a fierce roar filled the air. Felicity whipped towards the sound and saw Oliver clawing through a collapsed pile of wall. He was so intent on his frantic search that he left himself open to attack from an unfamiliar gargoyle.

Felicity couldn’t understand why the dark haired figure was striking out against one of it’s own, but they moved viciously and from her vantage she could tell Oliver was pulling his blows. He was reacting defensively, trying not to harm the other gargoyle that seemed determined to end him. Reacting on instinct she raced to assist him since Oliver seemed determine to not actually fight back.

Since she couldn’t risk hitting Oliver, the two gargoyles were a whirl of movement - wings and tails snapping back and forth in a flurry pivots and twists - Felicity kept her piece sheathed. While she waited for her opportunity to enter the fray, Felicity had a chance to get a better look at the new gargoyle and she was startled by the realization that Oliver was tangling with a female. It shouldn’t have come as such a surprise to her, most species had males and females after all, but having only met male gargoyles she’d made an erroneous assumption. There would be time to censure herself for that later, right now she needed to concentrate on helping Oliver.  

Oliver pushed a few feet of distance between himself and the female gargoyle and recognizing her opening Felicity charged and began grappling with the other female. She managed to land a number of solid blows but for all her training and the hours of practice she put in, Felicity was not a battle-hardened warrior like the gargoyle she was dueling. For all her experience she was unprepared for getting her feet got knocked out from underneath her by a gargoyle's tail. And really that seemed unfair. Guys twice her size she could handle, but a swiftly moving third appendage that was hard to keep tabs on was not something she'd ever trained for - that would change tomorrow Felicity vowed thumping to the ground.

She scrambled backwards as the livid female hovered over her, dark eyes flashing with malice.

"Helena no!" Oliver shouted as he leapt into the narrow space that divided them on the rampart.

"You would protect this _human_?" she fumed rearing back slightly in disgust. "After what their kind did to us!"

"Our betrayer is long dead," he reasoned. Felicity didn't need to hear Helena's derisive laugh to know that the gargoyle would not welcome his logic. She was lost in rage that she’d wrapped up in a quest for vengeance that could not be found a millennia later.

"You’re a fool Oliver," she spat, "but then again you always were." Helena slashed out at him, going for his eyes. Oliver turned quickly enough so she got his cheek, but she used that movement to knock him off balance and Felicity had to twist herself so she wouldn't be crushed under him as he fell.

Helena used their time getting back up on their feet to reacquire the laser gun Oliver had relieved her of; taking aim at them she told him, "You'll join in their fate."

A boulder flew out of nowhere just before Helena fired, spinning her around so the laser hit one of towers bringing it down upon them. Felicity felt the castle shift and heard the groan of splitting stone as the walkway gave way beneath her feet. The world spun out and she once again found herself falling from the great height of the massive skyscraper.

Frantic her eyes ping-ponged and she caught sight of Helena not far below her twirling in the air. Her wings fluttered around her, it almost appeared as if they danced, making Felicity aware that gargoyle was unconscious otherwise she was certain Helena would have caught a draft to stop her descent.

The racing wind ate up the full sound of her name, but she managed to catch Oliver's voice. He was diving towards her, hands out stretched. Though it seemed comical Felicity did her best to lunge in his direction, her hands straining to meet his. Their fingers briefly ghosted over each other and she saw determination harden his jaw as Oliver angled himself more, picking up speed to close the distance between them.

Their hands met as the wind changed. After flying — _gliding_ she mentally corrected herself — with him previously Felicity knew that he needed a certain strength of air to carry him, particularly with a passenger. If they got much lower Oliver would be unable to prevent their fall. Once she was hauled into the safety of his chest, Felicity watched Oliver’s eyes drifted towards Helena. She could tell by the mournful howl he let loose as he expanded his wings to counter their downward spiral that she was too far away for him to help.

* * *

 

Oliver’s heart felt heavy in his chest. Just a night ago he’d been rejoicing in the return of his beloved Angel of the Night, basking in the ability to soar through the sky again with her. Reveling being able to hold her hand and stroke her face, relishing the scent of her hair and the feel of her in his arms … after so long, after believing that Helena had been reduced to rubble. It was more than a dream come true. While Oliver still mourned those they’d lost, he been unable to feel anything but elated.

He’d awoken this very night still feeling that way. Though he’d been uncertain about their mission to reclaim Merlyn’s stolen technology, he’d been excited to tackle a foe with Helena again. To be at her side in all aspects.

Wariness began to set in when he’d witnessed her disregard for human life during their breach of one of the three locations they needed to simultaneously attack in order to retrieve the missing tech. Helena had been cold, bloodthirsty even. She had never been one to shy away from battle, but had only taken life when necessary. That she actively sought to kill any human they came across disturbed Oliver. He managed to prevent death, but Helena had made it known how disappointed she was in him for interfering.

Realizing that she was so changed from the gargoyle he remembered had not been the biggest blow of evening. He’d been hit by so much: her lies, both then and now, which had led to their clan’s destruction and made them thieves. Her turning on them, aligning herself with Merlyn, and allowing the man to sic his metal beasts on them. Helena striking out at him with her own hand, her intent lethal. Each event brutalized his heart.

Had his love always been a stranger he’d been unable to truly see, Oliver wondered as dawn began to creep towards the horizon. Or had he failed to protect her from the worst of humanity’s traits? That question could never be answered now. In saving a life he’d condemned Helena. She was beyond his reach now and they were both past the others forgiveness. That hurt him most of all.

Below him his brothers took their places for the rising of the sun in the now quiet castle; Felicity had watched over the teams of police officers collecting evidence to make certain they were not discovered. Their injuries though severe would heal as they slept, but the deeper wounds Oliver feared may never mend.

At the quiet tread of Felicity’s approach Oliver turned to face the detective. The long night left darkening circles under her eyes which shimmered with sympathy. He bristled slightly under her gaze, unready to accept that emotion from someone outside of his clan, particularly the human he managed to save in lieu of Helena. It had been his choice, a debt repaid, though Oliver knew Felicity had no expectation of him returning her gesture in kind. Still it was a decision that would take some time to come to terms with.

“Everyone has cleared out,” she informed him. “Though I am sure Cisco Ramon will back before too long. You’ll need to be careful with him around.”

“We will be,” he assured her.

Felicity fidgeted nervously in front of him. “Look, Oliver,” she said brushing some of her blonde flyway locks from her eyes, “we haven’t known each other very long, but you’ve got to trust somebody in this world.” She steadied as she spoke and her eyes landed on his, open and heartfelt. “I promise you won’t regret trusting me.”

He studied her for a long minute and she never wavered under his penetrating gaze. “No, I don’t believe you will,” Oliver replied. “You have my trust Felicity.”


	4. Chapter 3: Deadly Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Accidents happen ... or another time we could say dammit Barry! With a little Triad thrown in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 is nearly complete, just one more section to go there. My traveling around should be done for a while now, so I hope to have some more time to write. In other good news: I also have another version of the lovely banner Lexi made to share with you guys this chapter.
> 
>  

_21 Months Ago_

**Starling City Police Department Case No** : A5-201209

 **Reporting Officer** : Felicity Smoak

 **Incident** : Armed robbery at Starling City Port, Colonel Jeb Star Terminal, Dock Q10 - property owned by RM Shipping, a subsidiary of Merlyn Global.

 **Detail of Event** :  Witnesses on hand, Merlyn Global employee, Cisco Ramon, and his driver, Matt Bluestone. Ramon was present to inspect a cargo delivery received and unloaded at approximately 5:25 AM. Witnesses state 2 black SUVs (believed to be Ford Expeditions, plates were blacked out) breached the area within 3-5 minutes of their arrival. Four suspects exited the vehicles – 3 from 1, 1 from the other – a driver remained with each vehicle. Suspects were masked and wore all dark (black) clothing; including masks, shirts, pants, boots, and gloves. Witnesses were unable to determine age, ethnicity or gender of the suspects. Approximate height and weight: two of suspects were between 5′11-6′3, 230-250 lbs; another was 5′7-5′11 195-225 lbs, final suspect was between 5′4-5′6, 110-125 lbs.

Suspects each carried a machine gun. Ramon identified the weapons as UZI SMGs, which Bluestone confirmed. Shots were fired in unison at the witnesses’ feet and into the air to force separation between them and the cargo.

Cargo manifest listed “experiential equipment” from another Merlyn Global subsidiary, Xanatos Enterprises. Ramon described the stolen equipment as particle beam guns with laser sighting. In layman’s terms they are non-projectile weapon prototypes. Ramon reported that there were 300 weapons of various sizes in the 2 crates stolen.

* * *

 

Before waking up in the 21st century the thing that Barry loved most in life, outside of his clan, was food. Since joining the modern world he’d found a close second to food -- movies. More than the weekly airing television shows Diggle got invested in from the comfort of his recliner, Barry adored sneaking into a theater, pilfering popcorn, and experiencing a story unfold surrounded by others. He kept going back, seeing the same movies multiple times. Even after picking up on all the different nuances in a film, the reactions of a new audience changed the viewing experience, which is how he found himself at his eighth screening of _Showdown_ \- westerns were by far was Barry’s favorite genre - by himself. His brothers had refused to come with him again after their third time seeing it together.

Pleased as he watched the hero ride off into the sunset as the credits began to roll Barry scratched at his belly. Though he eaten a fair amount of popcorn he was still hungry, then again he could always eat, and he made the quick decision to head to Felicity’s - she had open door and kitchen policy for them - instead of back to the castle because it was closer.

As he expected, the skylight window into Felicity’s apartment was unlocked when he arrived. He called out her name in greeting as he slid open the glass pane. “Hey Barry!” she called out, peeking her head out from the kitchen. He offered her a wave as he leapt into her living room. “I was just about to make some mac n’ cheese, want me to make you a couple boxes?”

“Yes please,” he answered as his eyes swept the living room for Cagney. For as well stocked as Felicity kept her kitchen, granted her cabinets were filled mostly with junk food and prepackaged fair not that Barry minded, her actual cooking abilities were minimal. Something they’d all learned the hard way when she attempted to cook for them a few weeks ago. There had be a minor grease blaze and screaming fire alarms before the clan muscled their way through eating charred meat, hard potatoes, and soggy vegetables. Cooking was pretty much off the table after that though there were two things Barry knew Felicity had mastered: coffee, which Curtis had been barred from ever having again after his hyper reaction to the strong brew, and Kraft Mac & Cheese. Boiling water was still a risk, but as long as Felicity remained in front of the stove she managed to cook the pasta adequately. Even with her limited culinary skills adding butter, milk and the perfectly measured cheese packets was a manageable feat. And tasty one no matter what Oliver thought.

Cagney was just making her presence known when Barry spotted Felicity’s shoulder holster hanging from the coatrack. The gun tucked inside it, a Glock 22, didn't have the rotating cylinder of the Smith and Wesson used in _Showdown_ but the weapon still held a fascination for Barry. Ignoring the arch of Cagney’s form against his leg, Barry shuffled across the room, making a beeline for the rack. The rack was wall-mounted, made from reclaimed oak barn wood that was set with five antique door handles for hooks. There was whimsy in the function, a characteristic that could easily be applied to Felicity herself, not that Barry was thinking about her personal style. He was too caught up in his own head, in the idea of being the cowboy hero from the movie he loved. Without a thought he eased the gun from its resting place and held it awkwardly in his large, taloned hands. He did his best to mimic the stance of the gunfighter as took aim and pretended to fire at different objects around the room.

Barry pounced around Felicity’s home trying to put on the swagger he’d seen so often in the movie. He was so distracted by his play that he’d lost track of Cagney. When he stepped on her tail, she hissed her displeasure and he wobbled and the gun slipped in his grip. His hands spasmed, a low click followed a loud crack. In his surprise, Barry left out a gasp at the recoil he felt shoot up his arms causing him to dropped the gun. The weapon fell onto the purple throw rug with a muted thud.

“Sorry, Felicity! I was playing with the gun. Stupid of me,” he chided himself, his green eyes transfixed on the gun. It took him a few seconds to realize that Felicity remained quiet. He’d expected to be scolded by her Loud Voice for his carelessness or hear her concerned voice asking if he was all right. That the apartment was filled with eerie silence had Barry’s stomach twisting in knots. “Felicity?” he called out tentatively as he crossed over towards the kitchen area.

He froze in the doorway when he caught sight of Felicity on floor, a pool of red growing beneath her. Though Barry knew Felicity was hurt, that he _had_ to do something to help her, he was trapped in shock because **HE** had been the one to injure her. “Felicity?” he whimpered.

Barry wasn’t sure how long he stood there, staring at his friend, trying to comprehend what had happened, but a hitch in her breathing that finally spurred him into action. He scooped her up gently, not knowing if moving her was the right thing to do or not, but knowing he had to get her help.

* * *

 

The night sky was beginning its journey into morning, fading from darkness into light. It was one of the few truly quiet times Starling City experienced - the night owls having finally turned in and the early morning workers having yet to emerge. As had become his habit Oliver took this moment to look out over the city, his adoptive home, and to enjoy the beauty of its rising towers with the bay off in the distance.

“Oliver,” Roy hailed as he swooped down, Curtis and Diggle on his heels. Concern marred the younger gargoyle's brow and as Longbow ambled up the stairs towards them Oliver noted Barry’s absence. He did not get a chance to ask after their brother, as Roy informed him that Barry had yet to return.

“It’s not a big deal,” Curtis insisted. “Barry probably just found a late night viewing of _Showdown_ and doesn’t have time to make it back.” The declaration caused Oliver to frown. He was not a fan of the others going anywhere by themselves. Barely a month ago, Curtis had allowed himself to be taken in by The Pack. Believing that they were martial arts heroes they portrayed on TV, Curtis had revealed himself to the group and they had used him. And have very nearly exposed the clan to the world. The four members of The Pack - Laurel Lance, Mick Rory, and siblings Leonard and Lisa Snart were in jail now; so that was one possibility Oliver did not have to consider. Still Starling was a dangerous place, especially for a lone gargoyle.

It appeared another conversation was due. “I hope that you’re right,” Oliver said after releasing an irritated sigh, “and that he found a safe place to sleep for the day.” Knowing that his brother needed the comfort, Oliver reached out and cupped Roy’s shoulder. “We’ll search for him first thing, but for now, we need to prepare for our day’s rest.”

“He’s right lad,” Diggle voiced nudging both Roy and Curtis toward the ledge so they could jump down to their perches below. Curtis leapt without further prodding, but Roy gave them both a searching looking before nodding his assent and vaulting over the wall. For Oliver’s ears only, Diggle offered the reassurance, “He’ll be fine.” His old friend then hauled Longbow up into his arms so he could glide them both down below.

He was poised to take his stance for the day when Cisco called out to him. His emergence came as a surprise as Merlyn's man had a policy of not engaging them unless absolutely necessary. It was the first time Oliver remembered seeing the man looking frayed instead of his normal perfectly pressed countenance. “I am afraid,” Cisco said as he approached, “that I have some bad news.”

Fearing for Barry, Oliver barked out, “Dawn is nearly here. Be quick.”

The man’s dark eyes were tired and Oliver could see apprehension in them as he spoke. “Your friend, Detective Smoak, has been shot. They're not sure if she'll live.”

Oliver had time to release a growl of pained horror before the sun broke the horizon, turning him stone.

Hours later his cutoff cry of distress again pierced the air as he broke fear from his daily encasement. His clan immediately flocked to him, but there had been only one thought on Oliver’s mind as he slept: Felicity. He had to know how she and didn’t had the patience or the time to explain to the others. He charged through the castle, headed straight for Cisco’s office, his brothers trailing behind them. He could feel their worry, but until he knew Felicity’s fate Oliver had no idea how to share the news he’d received. “How is she?” he demanded as he burst into Cisco’s office.

“She?” Diggle inquired.

“Detective Smoak is alive.”

“Felicity was injured?” the others gasped. Oliver ignored their question and instead posed another of his own. “What happened?” he ground out in a dark tone.

Cisco clearly understood where the danger in the room laid and answered him without hesitation. “The police aren’t certain yet, but I do know that the Detective was looking into a weapons theft.” There was something in tone, some detail Oliver was certain was being left out, but before he could push for more Diggle strong-armed his way between him and Cisco, demanding, “Where is Felicity now?”

“Starling City General.”

Even though there was more to learn, more to say to his brothers, Oliver turned and exited the office. It wasn’t enough to hear that Felicity was alive; he needed to see her, and assume himself of that fact. “Wait!” Roy called out behind him, but Oliver pressed forward. He reached the courtyard and prepared to climb one of the walls so he could catch a gust of wind when Roy shouted at him again, “What about Barry?”

Nothing else would have given Oliver pause, but duty to his clan always came first. His eyes flash hot as he turned to face his brothers ready to snap at Roy though he didn’t deserve it. It would have been nice to have a release for his anger, Oliver could feel building up under his skin, a living thing wanting to bite and snap at the person who’d caused Felicity harm.

Diggle diffused the situation before any hard words or rash actions could take place. “See to your Felicity,” he instructed knowing that is where Oliver needed to be. “I’ll stay to guard the castle while Roy and Curtis see to finding Barry.”

Oliver nodded his agreement and did not offer another word before he pulled himself up the wall. He climbed just high enough to catch the wind and was on his way. The trip to the hospital seemed to take forever and each second he did not have eyes on Felicity his ire grew. He snarled at the inconvenience of not being able to enter the hospital and ask for her; instead he to circle the building, hoping to spot her through a window. His patience was all but gone when the sight of just the right shade sunny, blonde hair caught his eye.

Oliver swooped in closer and his heart finally began to settle when he saw the familiar profile of Felicity’s face. She looked tiny in the bed, attached to so many machines, but her chest rose and fell, assuring him that she was breathing. That she was alive.

There was barely a ledge for him to rest on, but Oliver didn’t care about his precarious perch. He used the claws on his right hand to dig into the concrete, giving him enough support so he could stand and drink in the sight of Felicity. His frantic emotions steadied as his breathing settled into sync with hers. Oliver was debating forcing the window open so he could enter Felicity’s hospital room when the door opened and three figures trailed in. He recognized two of them from pictures in Felicity’s apartment.

Her mother, Donna, was as blonde and blue-eyed as Felicity; though Felicity dyed her hair, a secret she shared with him, and her mother didn’t. She made a beeline for daughter upon entering the room, griping one of Felicity's hands between her two. “My baby,” she wailed as her head dropped down to the bed.

A comforting hand was placed on her shoulder by a young man. Rory Regan had dark hair and eyes which Felicity attributed to his father who’d married her mother’s sister, and barely looked related by human standards to his aunt and cousin. Oliver remembered how sad Felicity appeared when she shared how Rory had been four when his parents died and how guilty she’d felt afterward because she loved having him live with them. She had always wanted a sibling, and that’s how Felicity referred him, it was never my cousin Rory, but my brother.

“Tell me,” Donna said her voice surprisingly fierce as she raised her head. “Tell me how my baby is Dr. Sato.”

The broad shoulder doctor adjusted his glasses before speaking. Though his voice remained warm there a clinical edge to it. “Felicity's heart, one of her lungs, and her spine were all damaged by the bullet's impact on her back.” Donna shuddered at the news, but she refused to crumble as the doctor continued. "On the positive side, she survived 10 hours of surgery. The next 12 to 24 hours are critical and I'll be more confident in her making a satisfactory recovery once that time has passed."

Donna glanced back down at Felicity, before returning her gaze to the doctor to ask, “Should I call her father?”

“It’s too soon to talk like that,” Rory said before the doctor had a chance to reply. The pair shared a prolonged look, a battle of wills neither seemed willing to lose. The doctor finally broke the stalemate by suggesting, “Why don’t you two take some time with her before you make any decision.”

There was a hushed exchange that Oliver couldn’t overhear before the doctor took his leave, but the pair was not left alone as another man entered the room upon his exit. Donna wiped her eyes and fluffed her hair as Quentin Lance, Felicity’s captain, joined them. The nearly bald headed man’s cheeks flushed, but his demeanor quickly shifted back to one of concern as he studied his injured detective. “Everyone at the 23rd, hell every cop in this city, is thinking about your girl Donna. Whatever she needs -- whatever you need, just let me know.”

“What we need is to know who's responsible for this!”

“Rory,” Donna chided the youth, but Lance was unbothered by the young man’s angry tone.

“It’s all right,” he assured Donna, “I know how the kid feels.” Rory bristled at the term, but said no more as he waited for the captain to fill him in. Oliver knew he was following Felicity into public service, though he’d yet to graduate from the police academy. Rory wasn’t just a victim’s family member searching for answers; he was also a fellow officer struggling with the effects of the violence they all faced. “Felicity was working a weapons theft and had a confrontation with Chen Na Wei about it earlier today. It wasn’t a pleasant exchange,” Lance extrapolated, his face turning sour. Oliver recognized the name; the woman was associated with the Triad, an organization the SCPD and Felicity herself had been trying to reign in for years. “There’s speculation that Chen or one of her men broke into Felicity’s apartment and used her own gun in an attempt to kill her. Unfortunately,” he sighed, “proving who did is gonna be difficult because the fingerprints on her Glock were so badly smudged that they don’t even look human.”

“So Chen is just going to get away with it?” Rory demanded.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Lance replied without any hesitation.

Oliver understood that dedication, he felt it himself. The police, however, had rules they had to follow. While Oliver respected them Felicity deserved justice. He could see to that much more swiftly than the SCPD could. Though he longed to stay and watch over her, Oliver knew Felicity’s family would keep that vigil for him. Gently he placed his hand on the window; the angle at which he did made it look like his hand was laying over hers. It was as close as he would be able to get to touching her for the time being. “Keep fighting Felicity,” he begged in a low voice to ensure he did not draw attention to himself. He made a silent promise to her and himself to see her avenged, that very night if possible, before he took to the sky again in search of Chen Na Wei.

* * *

 

Felicity’s blood had been on his hands. Even though his day’s rest had removed all traces of it Barry could still see the stain of bright crimson fading into a rusty brown against the teal of skin when he looked at his hands. He couldn’t face his brothers seeing that violence marring his flesh even though he knew they’d be worried about him. He didn’t deserve that consideration -- not after what he’d done. Hurting a friend, potentially killing Felicity – the thought alone had Barry bursting into tears – and the only thing that been able to draw him out of his distraught state was the sound of a scuffle happening in the alley below.

Seeing a mugging taking place and a gun in the hand of the assailant had sent fury coursing through him. In that moment Barry hadn’t care about exposing himself; he had only one driving need, to prevent another innocent from being injured. He took action, rescuing a middle-aged man and discovering the perp was using a new type of gun. His rage spiked, and Barry threw the hoodlum against the wall snarling, “What’s this? A new kind of gun to kill people?” He very nearly snapped the man in half, but reason prevail and he’d crushed the weapon in the palm of his of hand. The show of strength terrified the delinquent enough that when Barry questioned him, he confessed easily as to where he’d purchased the gun.

The nickname of the dealer, Tiger, pounded through his head as he made his way to the warehouse on Canal Street the mugger had given up. He’d find him and stop him from ever selling another weapon. Determination beat through him, a siren’s drum deflecting all of his earlier emotions.

Plunging down to the warehouse roof Barry was caught off guard when he found Oliver there crouched over a skylight surveying the area below. There was a low, feral growl as his brother’s head shot his eyes molten with anger until Oliver recognized him. Ire was replaced by confusion as Oliver asked, “What are you doing here Barry?”

He had no way to explain his presence without confessing his misdeed and Barry had no idea how to admit the horrible truth of what he’d done. “Never mind,” Oliver said apparently impatient with his silence. “It may be best that you’re here. You can help me with the ones responsible for shooting Felicity.”

“What?” Barry gasped, baffled as to how Oliver had come to such an erroneous conclusion.

Oliver’s face crumbled for just a second, before hardened again. “You haven’t heard. Chen Na Wei,” he spit out the name with distaste, “stole some guns and decided to silence Felicity when her investigation got too close.”

Barry heard Oliver’s words, but he couldn’t make sense of them. His mind struggled to put the pieces together … the dealer, Tiger, could work for Chen. The whole clan knew about the SCPD’s repeated attempts to take the Triad down. Tiger was not an alias he ever recalled Felicity mentioning, but it seemed reasonable for the pieces to line up, but that still didn’t explain why Oliver thought Chen was responsible for Felicity’s shooting.

He had to speak up; he had to tell Oliver the truth before his brother sought vengeance against the wrong person, but before Barry could figure how to the truth Oliver was ordering him to, “Come.”

He said his friend’s name, trying to stop him, but Oliver burst down through the window and crashed to the ground with mighty roar. Left with no other recourse Barry followed suit, hitting the ground as Chen shouted, “Shoot them!” He and Oliver ducked and dodged the rapid fire, which pinged off a car parked in the warehouse.

“Fuse box,” Oliver said rushing by him. Understanding his leader’s plan Barry bounded up into the rafters. Gunfire followed him and though some bullets came close, none managed to hit him.

There was loud crack followed by a giant spark before the warehouse was thrown into darkness. Startled shouts rose up from Chen’s men as their firing ceased. Unlike the humans below him, Barry could see perfectly through the inky dark, allowing him to leap down behind the men unnoticed.

Moving with speed belied by his bulk, he quickly tossed one of the men aside with an arm while striking another down with a wing. His attack forced Chen backwards, towards the maze of shipping containers, and causing Barry to pause: Chen or the rest of her men?

The dilemma was solved for him by Oliver, who pursed Chen, leaving him to face the others. It was difficult, trying to keep track of his own battle while watching out for Oliver. Normally they’d have at least two if not more others to watch their backs, but tonight it was him and Oliver alone.

Barry had just brought down the last man when he caught sight of Chen falling from some scaffolding. For a terrifying moment he thought Oliver was going to let plummet to her death, but his arm swung out and he caught Chen by her left leg. He let her dangle as he angrily accused her of shooting Felicity.

Chen cried out a denial, one Barry knew to be true, but words he believed to be false only enraged Oliver more. Barry felt how little time there was a he climbed up the scaffolding, yelling out “You can’t,” to Oliver.

“I can,” Oliver refuted him. “Felicity will have her revenge through me.”

“Chen didn’t shoot Felicity – I did!” The words tore out of his mouth and Barry wasn’t certain who was more shocked by them, himself or Oliver. The look of utter disbelief on his brother’s face had him stumbling over his explanation that, “It was an accident.”

Oliver snarled at him, his eyes white with rage before his gaze went back to Chen who still dangled from his grasp. His jaw was clamped so tight Barry was certain it would snap, but the groan he heard came from metal rail Oliver broke off from the scaffolding. That, along with his one armed lift to bring Chen up to him was a clear display of strength and silent threat as he twisted the metal around her, securing her arms. “It seems,” Oliver ground out, “that we have much to discuss, but first we handle them.”

Barry nodded weakly and followed Oliver back down to the ground. They worked in silence while they bound the rest of Chen’s men. They were readying to leave when the warehouse doors opened behind them. Though there was tension still between them, they moved in unison to meet this new threat.

A droll voice called out, “It appears you’ve saved Mr. Merlyn some money.”

“You’re the buyer?” Oliver hissed as Cisco Ramon appeared in the light provided by the car outside the warehouse.

“How else was I going to get Merlyn Global’s stolen property back?” he asked unapologetically as he stepped up to inspect the crates.

The gargoyles shared an annoyed looked with each other. Barry could read Oliver’s intention when he asked, “Is anything missing?”

“It appears 37 weapons of varying types are missing,” Cisco replied. His voice and tone remained neutral as was the man’s trademark; nothing ever seemed to ruffle him.

Barry released an irritated grunt even though he knew that number to be 36 as Oliver picked up one of the larger gun. Without warning he fired it at the other weapons, melting them into lump of unable metal. Barry couldn’t help the smile that touched his lips as he realized that the guns would never again fall into the wrong hands.

"Mr. Merlyn isn't going to like this," Cisco remarked.

“I’ll be happy to discuss the matter with him after he’s released from prison,” Oliver replied as he broke the remaining gun in half. He placed the pieces near Chen and her men, ensuring that the police would be able to tie them to their theft, before turning to him. “Come,” Oliver said calmly, the worst of his anger eased, “we have a sick friend to visit.”

The quiet between them on their journey to the hospital wasn’t nearly has heavy or tense as it had been before. Barry knew that Oliver and the rest of his brothers would forgive him eventually – it is what family did, no matter the consequences, but he knew he’d never be able to absolve himself. Still he did take solace in witnessing Felicity wake up to the delight of her mother and brother, just before the sun rose.


	5. Chapter 4: Enter Macbeth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With his parole nearing Merlyn gets an offer to fumigate Wyvern Castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick FYI. Real life has decided to kick my ass -- I stressed baked Monday and Tuesday and being low on flour I resorted to roasting last night -- I hope to be able to maintain my bi-weekly posting schedule but I can't make any promises right now.
> 
> Thanks again to the lovely Becky for being such an all-star beta and cheerleader.

_18 Months Ago_

He had lived an egregiously long time, cursed by the Witches Three and tied to the demon who’d destroyed his world. Tired did not even begin to encapsulate how he felt. The marvels of an ever advancing world, which had managed to capture his imagination even when his heart beat cold and emotionless, no longer held any appeal. Once upon a time he’d been the son of Doada and Findlaech, High Steward of Moray, grandson of Maol Chalvim II of Scotland; a man with royal ties who had no want for the throne and only desired to marry his flamed haired love Gruoch. That man was ghost, barely a recollection in his own mind. He’d witnessed too much, done too much -- no one should have to live with that much history between their birth and death. His only longing now was to be done, but magic had him trapped. Bound him to his own demon, Helena, their lives knotted together; if she lived, he lived … no matter how many centuries accumulated upon them. Macbeth had determined that there was only one way to escape the prison of endless life: _he_ had to kill Helena and in doing so, kill himself.

No easy feat. He’d lost track of her over two hundred years ago and the devious gargoyle remained hidden, never getting close enough for him to share her physical pain. That was until a few months ago when whispers of gargoyles in Starling City had spread far enough to reach his ears. It had taken the resolve that only a millennia could carve into a man to keep him from taking immediate action. He knew of surviving clans in England, Japan, and Guatemala -- none of them with ties to Helena. Though he desired Helena’s end, Macbeth harbored no ill will towards gargoyles as a whole. They’d been his allies once and unlike his counterpart, he did not hold a whole species responsible for the actions of a few.

His research led him to Thomas Merlyn and a small clan of gargoyles with ties back to Scotland. For the first time in two centuries Macbeth felt hope. He _finally_ had a line on Helena. This clan meant something to her, which meant that he could use them to get to her; though currently she was believed to be dead following the skirmish that left the billionaire tycoon in jail. Macbeth knew better, Helena would survive the impossible, as he had, because of magic. Which meant his nemesis was in hiding licking her wounds; he merely needed to draw her out.

Offering his unique extrication services directly to Thomas Merlyn was a roundabout way of making contact with the Starling City clan. Knowing gargoyles as he did, Macbeth fully expected them to turn down his proposal of a new home. Having to fight both the clan and Merlyn’s security would be tiresome, but if he was welcomed into the castle -- that would ease his efforts. That’s why he bided his time setting up a up a booby-trapped mansion to lure the gargoyles to, one way or another, and waited to approach Merlyn when he was just a week away from release. Macbeth doubted the man wanted to return home to a band of hostiles responsible for his imprisonment.

Seeing an unfamiliar face, the young mogul paused upon entering the visitation room. Macbeth felt the weight of his appraising gaze and supposed most would be intimidated by a man who’d risen so far, so fast. Not him though, it took much for a mortal to impress him after all his long years. Merlyn had a leg up on most, but he was still just a man, one who had been bested by those he’d planned on exploiting.

Macbeth imagined in a few years, once Merlyn was seasoned more, such mistakes would no longer occur. He’d be impressive then, but he had no intention of living to see it.

Merlyn kept his face neutral as he approached. There was barely a noticeable tell to him being on edge. “You’re not my lawyer,” he greeted, his tone affable as he continued to try and take Macbeth’s measure.

“Indeed I am not,” Macbeth drawled, the Scottish bur in voice still prevalent over a thousand years after his birth. “I’m here to talk to you about your infestation problem.”

“I can assure you, my home is vermin free.”

“Pests come in different shapes and sizes Mr. Merlyn,” he all but tsked, “and yours are fairly remarkable.” Grey eyes narrowed in on him, clouding with suspicion; his cue to be direct. “I’ve dealt with gargoyles before and I can see to it that your castle is your own again.”

 

* * *

 

Big, stubborn ridiculous gargoyle, Felicity grumbled mentally as she hobbled after Oliver. She was annoyed at him for eluding their on-going argument by turning and walking away from her. It was a dirty move as far as Felicity was concern. Oliver was a perfect specimen of health, his long stride difficult for her to keep up with under normal circumstances; and she would never subscribe normalcy to the single crutch she still needed to use three months after her shooting. It could have been worse, Felicity knew that. She was reminded of it every time Barry looked at her, guilt flooding his green eyes, even though she felt her own sense of culpability because she had not properly stowed her weapon that night. She’d said as much to Barry, but Felicity understood that sometimes it was easier to forgive others than yourself.

Oliver, however, was trying her patience as she struggled to follow him through the castle. His storming off, refusing yet again to discuss the very real problem that Merlyn’s imminent release posed was doing them no good. She was frustrated enough that Merlyn had managed to game the system and get himself an early release for quote good behavior unquote. Witnessing him circumvent justice was bad enough, knowing he’d found a way to pervert it had her all but tugging her hair out. To top it all off she was still trapped behind a desk and would be until she got a clear bill of health. Her fuse was at its shortest and Oliver chose now to leave her in his wake when he damn well knew that following him was all but impossible.

Officially pushed past her limit, Felicity stopped her pursuit and used her fiercest personal armament. Her Loud Voice, as Roy termed it, which for some reason all her gargoyle friends seemed to fear. “ ** _OLIVER_**!” she shouted, her tone laced with every bit of frustration she felt. Felicity noted the wince of his wings as he came to an abrupt halt. Longbow, who’d been keeping pace beside her let out a low whine as he shuffled a few feet back.

“I’m not mad at you boy,” she whispered, her voice soft as she looked back at the massive lug. Tension left his shoulders and his tongue lolled as he inched back towards her. He nuzzled her good leg gently before turning disdainful eyes upon Oliver for upsetting her.

Oliver let out an irritated huff as he turned. “How many times do you need me to tell you that we’re not leaving?” he ground out.

“As many times as I have to remind you that Merlyn is getting out and will be coming back here.” Oliver merely shrugged at her words, refusing to understand what they meant and the dangers Merlyn presented to the clan. It wasn’t the 10th century anymore, claiming a victory over Merlyn did not mean they’d won the spoils of war. Whether Oliver liked it not, Tommy Merlyn owned Wyvern Castle, it was his domain and Felicity’s biggest fear was that peace the clan had been able to live in with him in prison would end the moment he returned. She had no way to protecting them during the day, of preventing Merlyn from smashing them while they slept.

“Oliver,” Felicity sighed, just as tired of this fight as he was, but  knowing it was one she couldn’t afford to lose she pressed on, “you can’t stay here.”

His face contorted at her words and Oliver roared at her: “We have lost our clan, our world, even our time Felicity! This castle,” he threw his arms out drawing both their gazes to the stone walls that surround them before blue met blue again, “is all we have left and we will _not_ abandon it.” He was breathing heavily as his outburst came to an end. He looked as stricken as she felt and Oliver must have seen that because his erect stance hunched. In a quieter tone with his eyes downcast he said, “I know you do not approve, but you won’t change my mind.”

“Oliver—”

“For the sake of our friendship,” he cut off her instinctive protest, his eyes lifting to meet hers again, _pleading_ with her, “please stop trying to.”

 

* * *

 

_"It's not you I'm after; you're just a pawn. I want your queen, Helena."_ The man, Macbeth, his earlier words sat uncomfortably in Oliver’s mind. The conviction he held that Helena was alive, that she had somehow managed to survive the fall – Oliver didn’t know whether to hope for that possibility or fear it. His Angel of the Night was not the gargoyle he’d believed her to be. There was a possibility that Oliver would be able to come to terms with reality of who she truly was, but he would never be able to forgive her for endangering their clan. If she was alive, and honestly the sense of being observed by someone other than Cisco Ramon led him to believe that she was; he’d never be able to trust that his brothers would be safe in her presence.

Perhaps it was better Diggle and Felicity had forced the move he’d been fighting. It would take Helena awhile to find their new home; the clock tower above the 23rd precinct - Felicity’s station - provided them a snug place to call home. Diggle had pilfered his favorite recliner from the castle along with the Grimorum Arcanorum and Felicity had furnished the space with a colorful throw rug, a desk and chair combo, bookshelf and the electronics his brothers had come to rely on: a television (one much smaller than Diggle was accustomed), a laptop, and small kitchen setup of a mini-fridge and microwave. For all the space and luxury they’d lost, the move had one added benefit; there would be no sticky questions about why Felicity would be visiting the building.

Still Oliver hated forfeiting the castle. He’d been hatched within its rookery, raised within its walls and on quiet nights he could hear the echoing voices of his parents along with all the others they’d lost. He’d no longer be able to turn a corner and easily remember a conversation he had with them, making keeping their memories alive inside him all the more difficult. In losing the castle it felt as if he failed them again. 

The two battles he fought that night with Macbeth, first at the castle and then at the man’s so called home, which was nothing but an elaborately staged trap, had finally made Oliver realize that he had to choose between the past and present. He was responsible for the clan, ghosts and all, but his priority had to be its living members. For their good Oliver had finally relented, but not before promising Merlyn’s proxy that, "We'll be back to claim that which is ours." It was selfish pledge, one made for himself and not his brothers. A vow Oliver was uncertain he’d be able to live up to, but he would try and in the end it would be the effort that mattered and not the result.

He was pulled from his thoughts by Felicity calling to him. “Your turn big guy.” Though it was barely an hour to dawn she waved him over to the desk, the laptop he knew she provided for Curtis was closed and pushed to the side so that the rations of their first aid kit could be laid out across it. Even though Felicity knew full well that their daytime sleep could cure even the worst of injuries, if there was time she would always see to their wounds. People like Merlyn would see it as a waste of resources, but it was the act that mattered. A sign of affection, as friends soothed hurts – both physical and emotional.

There were slashes and burns from his earlier bouts, bruises that had time to form, but none of them would last through his sleep. Oliver felt the sting of them as he moved towards Felicity without argument. He knew she’d seen to the others first so that he could have his “brooding time” as she termed it. Longbow was curled up next to the chair in which she sat, Barry was at the microwave making popcorn, while Curtis has taken a spot on the floor next to Diggle in his recliner - their attention seemingly on the television though Oliver knew they watched him, just as Roy did from the rafters with a book he was clearly not reading.

They were all aware he was unhappy about the move. One that Diggle and Felicity had engineered after Macbeth’s initial attack on them at the castle. Since Diggle had been injured, Oliver left him in Barry’s hands while he went on a solo search for the abducted Curtis, Roy, and Longbow. Curtis had used his ever growing knowledge of modern day technology and the brute strength of Roy and Longbow to circumvent the electrified cage Macbeth locked them in enough to allow the latter to escape. Flying over the city, Oliver had caught sight of their pet disturbing the evening traffic. He’d used a low whistle to gain his attention and once Longbow knew Oliver had eyes on him, he began leading him back to where the others were being held.

His second battle with Macbeth had been about as successful as his first. They’d both gotten their licks in, but neither could be said to have prevailed. Honestly, Oliver had never encountered a warrior who knew how to anticipate him so well. Not even Helena, who he’d trained and fought beside, had been able to match him. Things would have turned out differently that fateful night atop the Merlyn Global building if she had. And that didn’t even touch upon the traps Macbeth had arranged throughout the house. They’d all been designed to throw him off balance, feed his frustration and turn his strengths into weaknesses.

He hadn’t defeated Macbeth. In fact, he’d only managed to fight the man to a stalemate, though it was enough of a distraction to allow Longbow to free Roy and Curtis. It had only been Macbeth’s realization that he could not use the clan to get to Helena, along with a blaze Oliver had started, that ended their fray. They escaped, neither of them the victor, and Oliver had returned to the castle to find Diggle the single soul waiting for him.

Livid barely described the ire Oliver felt when he learned Diggle had sent the others on to their new home. He’d believed the argument ended the night before, but his mentor picked up where Felicity left off, insisting, “The lass is right. This is just a place of stone and wood. Home is more than that. Home is the six of us, whenever we can be together and safe ... _that's our home_.”

Both Diggle and his father had drummed the well-being of the clan into him. The first rule, the one that governed all the others, the question always asked when it came to making a decision – was it in the clan’s best interest. Staying left them at risk. The reality was they’d been at risk even while Merlyn hadn’t inhabited the castle. Cisco had let them be, but Macbeth’s intrusion had been a clear message that the uneasy peace they’d been living in would not continue. The clan could not be left vulnerable during the day in a hostile environment, even if was a place well known to them.

He could no longer pretend that staying in the castle was in their best interest, so he growled his promise to Cisco and followed Diggle to the clock tower – to his brothers, to Felicity, to home. Diggle had been right, then again he usually was, and he’d declared, “As long as we're together, we’re home,” before Barry had given him the ‘grand’ tour while Felicity saw to the others injuries.

Unlike Curtis who Felicity had just finished bandaging up, he was not small enough for Felicity to see to him from the chair. Because of her own injury Oliver didn’t want Felicity standing while seeing to him, she would have had to strain anyway given his height, so he knelt when he reached her, wincing only slightly.

Her hand immediately went to his cheek to offer comfort. Oliver leaned into the touch for a few seconds, before straightening and assuring her that he was fine. “You always say that,” she huffed with a roll of her eyes. In this case his assessment was more or less right. None of the wounds were overly deep and by the time he landed on the ledge of the clock tower he’d stopped bleeding. That left Felicity’s ministrations to the clean-up variety, though she did wrap a bandage around the nasty slash he took to his right bicep because it had started to ooze again.

When she deemed her work complete she patted him just above the dressing gently and said, “All done.” Their eyes met as he offered her his thanks. The prolonged contact of their eyes had her cheeks flushing and he smiled at her reaction which caused Felicity to start babbling as she looked away from him and began packing up the unused supplies.


	6. Chapter 5: Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The use of magic has some unintended consequences for Felicity and the gargoyles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello one and all! Apologies for the long break, I had a crazy family spell that is mostly resolved. (Fingers crossed, knock on wood, and all that stuff.) I hope to get back to my every 2 week posting schedule but besides flushing out the 2 sentence outline I originally had for chapter 8 I haven't actually written anything of substance in almost a month. I hate making promises I can't keep, so no guarantees on when I will be posting again. I can, however, promise that we'll get to the finish line; even if I end up being more tortoise than hare.

_15 Months Ago_

The world was wrong and had been wrong for centuries as far as Helena was concerned. At the center of the storm, infecting the planet was humanity. Her kind would have been better off if they had kept their existence from the humans, certainly her clan, who’d been destroyed by the greedy machinations of Hakon with Slade's assistance would have been. As she had done for millennia, Helena denied her culpability in the horrible events of that night – both she and Slade had been certain she’d be able to convince Oliver into removing the clan from the castle, leaving them safe while Hakon’s forces attacked. The castle would have been theirs, as it was meant to be, if only Oliver had listened.

Her cursed existence, living to see her kind all but exterminated along with her clan demolished and _her_ beloved turned against her – it stung bitterly, Oliver favoring a pitiful human female over one of their own. Whenever Helena thought of Felicity Smoak her stomach turned and her heart burned with rage.

All she longed for, the reason she’d persisted, had been for the chance to restore her remaining clan.

Then the magical Weird Sisters put her in the path of Macbeth, casting a spell that bound them together; it had returned her youth, but condemned her to a lonely unending life. At least it had until she found Tommy Merlyn. He thought himself something special when he was a merely a pathetic human so caught up in proving himself in his father's eyes that she could manipulate her greatest desire from him.

For the briefest, sweetest of moments all that Helena longed for had been hers. The younger gargoyles: Roy, Barry and Curtis had not truly mattered; but Longbow, Diggle and Oliver. _Her Oliver_. To feel his arms around her again, his hand on her cheek, to soar through the clouds with him … it had been a dream. A wondrous dream, turned nightmare because Helena had forgotten how blind her beloved was to the true threat facing their kind. Once again humanity came between them … or rather one particular human had.

 _Felicity Smoak_.

Just thinking of the blonde haired detective made Helena hiss. That she had the confidence of her clan, their friendship and worst of all Oliver’s affection -- it twisted a heart turned cold by millennia alone. Seeing that preference displayed over and over again since before the clan realized she’d survived her fall at Merlyn Global grated and burned through Helena stronger than all the hate she’d spent centuries carrying.

She could rectify that now having acquired Titania's Mirror and the enchanted restrains needed to force Oberon’s most troublesome child to doing her bidding. Helena was certain the trickster thought he was being so clever with his disguise, but thanks to her encounter with the Sisters Three, guardians of Avalon - Nyssa, Talia and Tatsu - she knew how to see beyond the ordinary visages members of the third race wore. Cisco Ramon was such a bland mask for Puck to wear, but considering the activities of Tommy Merlyn she was certain there was amusement in the choice for him. He had alluded to that much when he appeared in his natural state – his hair silver, unbound and flowing freely though that did nothing to hide his long pointed ears – when he denied her initial demand to serve her with the tart reply of, "Serving humans is fun. They have a sense of humor. You have none!"

It irked Helena that her threats did not faze the imp, instead he managed to unbalance her by proving that her heart’s desire had not changed. No matter how disillusioned she had become, Helena wanted Oliver. Watching him with Felicity, seeing that human at his side – her rightful place – in Titania's Mirror had her spewing the demand that Puck rid the world of all humans. He balked at the order, feigning limits on his powers that in her hazy of jealous anger Helena did not think to question; instead she spat, "Fine! If you cannot get rid me of all the humans, then at least rid me of that human: Felicity Smoak."

Puck titled his head and pouted, "Did you say ' _that_ human' or 'that _human_ ' ... oh, never mind," he waved off his own musing. "I'll figure it out. This just might be fun after all." He grinned at her then and as he spoke of the words of his spell his eyes turned yellow and he began to levitate. "Thy sight Helena doth offend, so Puck will hasten to amend. Begone Felicity, human born, and be no more as you were formed."

"It’s done?" Helena demanded. "She's gone?"

"The human Felicity Smoak is no more," he assured.

 

* * *

 

“The what now?” Felicity asked looking completely perplexed by Curtis’s offhanded comment about the Third Race. Oliver was not accustomed to seeing such a look on his ally’s face, but he found himself charmed by her wrinkled brow. He stifled that thought immediately and went back to working out Helena’s possible intentions with the mirror while the others talked. Oliver hated to speculate what she planning, but he knew whatever action she took next it would not be benign. Helena by herself was a formidable foe, her near corruption of Roy and just failed attempted at dividing the clan after she resurfaced following Macbeth’s attack on them was proof enough of that. Adding magic to the mix … it made Oliver uneasy. He had been wary of magic before battling beside Diggle against the villainy of the Archmage. Their defeat of man felt more fortuitous than skillful and had not come without a price. The scar across Diggle’s left eye, a wound that took almost his entire ability to see from it, was a permanent reminder. Oliver’s misgivings of magic were furthered after experiencing the harm it could do in the hand of a decent man like the Mage. The wisest thing in his estimation was to contain magic as best they could and keep objects of power from the likes of Helena.

“You know, gargoyles, humans and Oberon’s children,” Barry supplied helpfully.

When Felicity continued to stare at them wordlessly Curtis added, “I thought everyone knew that.”

“Apparently not,” she grumbled. Diggle chuckled at her frustrated tone. Finding something that Felicity didn’t have even a cursory knowledge of was a rarity, so of course Roy had to chime in, his tone playful, “That guy Shakespeare even wrote a play about them.”

“ _That_ Oberon?” she queried. “Like king of the fairies?”

“That be the one,” Diggle confirmed.

“Wait!” she said sharply, throwing up her hands – Felicity had a way of talking with the whole of her body that was hard to ignore, drawing Oliver’s full attention back to the discussion happening in the clock tower. The living space was still snug, but had over the last months come to feel like home. “You’re saying that shapeshifters, elves, fairies – they’re real?”

“As real as us,” Curtis replied, causing her eyes to widen as that reality began to sink in.

“I think I need—” whatever Felicity intended to say next was cut off by a sudden cry of pain. The force of it had her hunching over and wrapping her arms around herself as she whimpered. Her distress tore through Oliver, all through her rehab, even in those first days in the hospital after her shooting, Felicity had never responded in such a manner.

Instinctively he reached for Felicity, seeking to comfort her, but before he could touch her a faint blue light surrounded her. Oliver watched horrified as the shade of blue deepened and the light got brighter. More sounds of distress were wrenched from Felicity as she began to float.

It was magic, which meant it was Helena. Oliver bit back a snarl knowing that his anger would not serve him in this moment. He needed to think clearly and find a way to help Felicity. His brothers had circled her, all wanting to help, but none of them knew how to confront what was happening – leaving them to stand helplessly before their friend. The light continued to brighten, getting so intense that it was impossible to see anything through it. Though it was blinding Oliver forced his eyes to remain open, glued to the spot where he’d last seen Felicity’s face.

Just as suddenly as the magic had washed over Felicity, it exploded silently around them; leaving them to adjust to the normal light levels of the room which seemed to be fuzzy, spotted darkness on the heels of the radiance that had engulf them. That was why Oliver heard the thud of Felicity connecting with the ground instead of seeing it.

“Are you alright lass?” Diggle called out.

There was a terrifying moment of silence before Felicity wheezed out, “I think so.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Curtis remarked, his voice slightly awed. Oliver didn’t know how to take the younger gargoyle’s comment, he fought back the panic of not knowing and rubbed his eyes furiously, trying to force them to work properly again.

Finally able to make out shapes again Oliver’s gaze fell to Felicity and what he saw made him gawk much as his brothers were. Felicity stood before them, seemly unharmed which was a relief, however, her form was no longer human. Felicity had been transformed into a gargoyle.

Her creamy skin tone remained nearly the same, though there was dusting of freckles, in the shade of pink her cheeks turned when she blushed, all along her exposed dermis. Her legs had elongated some with the arch of her gargoyle feet giving her another two inches in height. Oliver could make out the pointy tips of ears just peeking out from around the flowing mass of her now freed and wavy tumble of blonde hair. Her eyes, a shade of blue that he’d always found compelling, were now tinted towards purple, reminiscent of heather that had been so prevent in their old homeland. But what truly held Oliver’s attention were Felicity’s wings. They sloped delicately off her shoulders and the underside dermis was a deeper hue of pink than her freckles.

Oliver struggled with sight before him; he knew he should be concerned about what happened to Felicity and figuring out how to correct it, but instead he was distracted – thinking how lovely Felicity was in gargoyle form, making it impossible for him to think straight. In fact he was so flummoxed that Oliver barely reacted when Felicity’s flung herself at him exclaiming happily, “Oliver you’re a gargoyle!” It took a moment for her words to register because he was too overwhelmed by the feel of her wings coming to rest over his shoulders.

It wasn’t Roy’s deadpan response that, “He’s always been a gargoyle,” that got Oliver to snap out of his haze. It was the confusion on Felicity’s face as she leaned out their embrace to look him the eye to tell him, “You were human.”

“No,” Oliver corrected, “you are.”

Felicity released a snorting laugh at his assertion. “That’s ridiculous Oliver. I’ve always been a gargoyle.”

A new wave of indignation swept through him. Manipulating Felicity’s physical form was bad enough, but messing with her mind, altering who she was at her core. For that Helena would pay. Oliver’s eyes went white in his fury, startling Felicity who jumped back from him. “I’m not mad at you Felicity,” Oliver assured her, though he could not keep the growl from his tone. “It’s the situation.”

“The one where you think I’m a human?” she queried closing the distance between them. Oliver knew it was a move meant to reassure him that she had merely been surprised by his anger and not truly afraid him. The narrowing distance between them alleviated his flush of anxiety, beyond that first night of discovery Felicity had never been fearful of him and he hated to think she would be even for a moment. Though it occurred to Oliver that fear could give him away to counter her mistaken belief.

Felicity didn’t like heights and a gargoyle learned early on not to be bothered by them. “Come?” he asked, offering her a hand. She took it without hesitation, her touch making his heart flutter, and nodded. Oliver signaled the others to follow and led Felicity to balcony outside the clock tower, out to the ledge where they took their places for their daily rest. He jumped up on it with easy. Felicity followed his lead, but wobbled as her feet landed and she took in the edge and drop down to the street below.

“Ready to fly?” His question brought her anxious eyes to his steady ones.

“Fly?” she gulped.

“Well glide,” Oliver corrected, his voice going soft an effort to calm her nerves.

“I don’t – I don’t do either,” she replied.

“But gargoyles do. That’s what our wings are for,” Oliver reminded her as he unfurled his own and allowed them to billow in the wind that danced around them. Felicity’s gaze drifted to his wings and then over the city’s skyline before fastening to his eyes again. Oliver could feel her trepidation, but a look of fierce her determination settled over her face. “Felicity,” her name was imbued with tenderness. “You’re afraid and you wouldn’t be if you’d always been a gargoyle.” To prove his point, he allowed the wind to lift him up and pulled Felicity with him. She let out a squeak and tried to dive into his arms.

“Your wings,” he reminded her. Felicity looked skeptical, but slowly expanded her wings. Delight washed over her face as the wind rippled through them. She laughed again, a carefree sound, though she never loosened her grip on his hand as they soared over the city, his brother’s swooping around them offering Felicity encouragement whenever she appeared to get nervous.

Oliver allowed himself to get lost in the moment. To enjoy it; gliding through the air with Felicity at his side, her growing elation and confidence as she started to master her wings. It was one of the most striking things he’d ever seen. _She_ was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Before he could think better of it, Oliver closed the distance between and told her as much. “I’ve never realized just how beautiful you are Felicity.”

Her rosy cheeks flushed more and she offered him a smile before playfully inquiring, “You mean you thought I was ugly?"'

"Well, uh …” he sputtered before a well time gust allowed him to warn, “careful, updraft!” Oliver used the sudden draft to direct them to the rooftop of a nearby building. Reality had reared its head. It was way past time to deal with the issue at hand, which meant he had to bury the longing he had for Felicity to remain a gargoyle. Her life, her family, her calling – they all required human form. He wouldn’t deny her those things or allow Helena to take them from her.

He perched on the building’s ledge, while settling Felicity securely on the rooftop, forcing distance between them and was grateful for the presence of his brothers as they swooped in on their heels. Their compliments on her quickly picking up the nuances of flight kept Oliver from saying more things he shouldn’t. He was just about to break into their excited discussion and remind them that they had Helena induced magic to deal with, when pain sliced through him. Oliver howled, as every cell in his body morphed. The excruciating torture ended with a whoosh moments later and he found himself falling.

Oliver let out a yelp, his arms and legs flailing, when a pair of clawed hands caught his eye. Relief flood through him at the sight of Felicity diving towards him. She caught his hands and yanked with all her might. His descent slowed, but she had trouble countering his weight and they landed roughly on a roof, tumbling over each other before their skid finally halted. Oliver’s heart was pounding rapidly as they untangled themselves and got carefully to their feet.

They both took a moment to look over the other, making sure that there was nothing more serious than a few bumps and bruises from their fall before it occurred to Oliver. “You’re a gargoyle again,” he said his relief evident.

 Felicity titled her head and eyed him warily. He glanced down at his bared toned chest. A few of the scratches were bleeding, but otherwise his toned muscles looked as they always did. Felicity’s hushed “ _Human_ ,” had him glancing up again. She said it as if his humanity surprised her. 

Before he could question her distress she said, “There something wrong here. Do you remember the Third race?”

Oliver frowned not understanding the correlation but answered her anyhow, because it was Felicity and she had asked. “Oberon’s children, yes. They have magic.”

“That explains a lot,” she replied. For her it might, but Oliver was confused as to why it mattered. Again before he could press for answers, Felicity spoke again, insistent: “Please tell me you know how to stop them.”

 

* * *

 

He was still buzzing from the night’s events. It had been so long, too long really, since he’d been able to use his powers. Though Puck hated being bound, Helena’s schemes had given him the opportunity to circumvent Oberon’s degree against using magic, save to disguise themselves, upon banishing his children from their rightful home and to life in the mortal world. Truthfully, there was very little Puck missed about Avalon, save for his magic. Humans were such an interesting distraction, particularly the ingenuous Tommy Merlyn whose craftiness felt very much like his own and why he’d taken up the guise of Cisco Ramon. He was denied magical mischief but in aiding Tommy he found other means to satisfy his true nature.

Plus Tommy’s romantic entanglement with Laurel Lance, former leader of the Pack and unaware of Halfling, held promising potential for future fun. Still he hadn’t been able to stretch his wings, so to speak (making puns was a small pleasure he’d never deny himself), in a very long time.

He was still giddy over his feats. Willfully misinterpreting Helena’s demand and turning Felicity into a gargoyle had spun out in such a delicious unexpected way … turning the gargoyle clan human and then the entire population of Starling City into gargoyles, all to the great displeasure of Helena. Puck reached long forgotten peaks of elation at the ensuing chaos.

A thank you gift seemed in order, or rather one last excuse to use his magic before the night came to an end and further use caught Oberon’s attention. He appeared in a puff above a sullen Helena. Paying no heed to her dour mood he preened, “Oh but what fun that was! Seeing _gargoyles_ run from your _human_ friends. What delight! A boon I think you’ve earned for Puck’s revelry.”

“Wretched sprite,” she spat at him, lunging with her claws to take a piece of him. Puck easily floated out of range, grinning as she leapt unsuccessfully a few more times, at him. She cursed him the whole while, her eyes glowing red in her rage. Panting, she gave up, flicking her tail at him in dismissal. “Be gone with you,” Helena seethed. “I am no mood for any more of your games.”

Puck’s merriment morphed into irritation.  He’d come with good intentions – well mostly – and Helena dared to brush him off. To dismiss him. _Him_. Oberon's most powerful child. Oh that was an insult he would not let stand. He’d talked Helena around a demand for days earlier in the evening, but now that request would be her punishment. Helena would have her days. Only not in a way she’d appreciate. She’d be what she loathed most and Puck could find no more fitting retribution for her slight.

“Fearsome creature who would stay unchanged by the light of day,” he chanted his spell, “remain you thus throughout the night but be thou flesh by dawn's fair light.” As his words came to an end, Helena charged him again, but he merely disappeared flashing her a malevolent grin, before leaving her to discover her new form come sunrise.

 

* * *

 

“I would like to have seen the sun just once." Diggle lamented as the clan stood on the balcony of the clock tower. There was a wistful expression on his face as he looked out over the city that was coming awake as the lighter hues of sky announced the nearing of sunrise.

“That’s what movies are for,” Roy remarked though Felicity could see yearning in the red gargoyle’s eyes. Even their momentary chance of fitting in with the world around them had been marred when the humans of the city had turned gargoyle. There were others, she was sure who would accept and befriend them, but she’d grown accustomed to having them to herself and the notion of sharing them … it was hard to contemplate.

Discretion wasn’t in her mother’s vocabulary but Rory would benefit knowing the clan and vice versa. Her partner, McKenna Hall, would be a good ally. She was already curious about her random disappearances during shift; though her belief that there was super-secret government spy agency manipulating events gave Felicity pause. Still the sense of guilt she felt as all but Oliver wished her goodnight and headed to their rests made expanding their circle something she could no longer put off.

“Felicity,” Oliver said her name, in that soft meaningful way he had, drawing her attention to him.

She’d been trying for a while now to deny that she found him appealing. They were different species and liking him was one thing, but _like_ -liking him. Talk about impossible. But the way he’d looked at her when she’d been a gargoyle – the way he kept looking at her now.

The only thing that spelled more trouble for her was remembering how Oliver looked in human form. All that strength and power had been compacted into a little over six feet of mouth-watering glory with scruffy jaw that did things to her. Felicity released a strained laugh, desperately hoping to play it off, “Yeah I know. You're relieved,” she said with a weak smile, “as I am that things are back to normal."

Disappointment flared in his eyes and his brow furled. "That's not what I was going to say—" Felicity put a hand up to Oliver’s mouth, ending his words just a moment before the sun could. She watched sadly as his searching blue eyes froze on her.

“I know,” she sighed, tracing his now stone cheek, “but that's the way it is."


	7. Chapter 6: Eye of the Beholder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gargoyles experience their first Halloween.

_11 Months Ago_

 

There was a giddy bounce to her step and a ridiculously wide smile plastered to Felicity’s face as she exited the pop-up costume shop. She had been looking forward to Halloween for weeks, excited for the opportunity for the gargoyles to be out at night and not be afraid of being seen. Though what she been anticipating most was the chance to walk down the street with Oliver at her side. The moment she’d noticed a widow full of various elaborate getups in mid-September Felicity had stopped in to pre-order her own costume – something she hadn’t done in years as she worked most Halloweens – and put in a request for having the holiday off.

 

Her selection was frillier than she’d ever went as a kid or teenager, something Felicity knew her mother would approve of, even though Donna Smoak would insist that she could have gone for something slinkier. Though the gown she selected would never be considered historically accurate representation of courtly formal wear, she had selected it with Oliver in mind. Even though it was absolutely pointless trying to wow him, Felicity couldn’t help but relish the thought of the look in his eye when she did – so even though Rory would delight teasing her, tomorrow night she’d be a princess. One of her favorites, Belle had a love for learning she shared and the ability to see beyond surface to the beauty within, not to mention a willingness to stick up to bullies.

 

Felicity was making her way to car, with the wrapped dress carefully draped over her arm, when a frightened scream pierced the night air. “No,” she groaned as she spun towards the sounds of distress, catching sight of a clerk running out of a nearby convenience store. The mid-twenties Latino’s face was contorted in fear as he ran past her without a backwards glance, whispering a prayer for protection.

 

The cop in her wouldn’t let Felicity walk away. It didn’t matter that she was off duty or that she was trusting that the dress she laid gingerly down on the truck of the car nearest to her might not be there when she got back. Her city needed her. That was all that mattered.

 

Drawing her gun, she approached the store with her head on a swivel, keeping a weather eye out for whatever had terrified the clerk. Half the lights were out and the cash register was open with the money from the nightly count strewn all over the counter and floor. Whatever had run the clerk off had surprised him during his closing routine. Felicity cursed what she thought had been her luck arranging a late night pick up of her costume and eased into the store.

 

She heard quick, low pants and rooting noises that sounded more animal than human. Steadying herself, Felicity edged beyond the first aisle before jerking to a stop. A lean, furry mass of … something was shoveling whatever it could get its paws – the world’s biggest dog, the thought flashed through her mind – into its mouth. Still in the dim lighting the curve of its spine and breadth of its shoulders made Felicity think the creature could be human. The realization sent a mild sense of panic flooding through her. As far as Felicity knew all the genetically altered humans, hybrids made from mix of gargoyle DNA and various animals, Dr. Anthony Ivo had tested on were living peacefully (and very well protected) outside the city. Rory was very much aware of her predicament. He’d become infatuated with Maggie Reed, one of mutated survivors, who along with her gargoyle wings had taken on feline features and fur. Ivo was dead; his work destroyed, much to the dismay of his victims who had no hope of being returned to their natural state. Felicity could only hope that the lack of wings meant that whatever this creature was, it wasn’t connected to the twisted doctor’s experimentations.

 

The creature’s head suddenly snapped up and it turned, its yellow eyes catching sight of her, and snarled. Its features looked like wolf, though the patch of blue fur around its right eye was not a distinguishing feature associated with the species. Thinking of near full moon that had been peeking out from behind the clouds earlier Felicity winced at her wild speculation: _werewolf_. Given the existence of gargoyles and fairies she couldn’t exactly rule out that possibly. “Nice wolf,” she said, her voice wavering slightly.

 

What happened next was a blur of movement colored by spikes of adrenaline. The wolf leapt at her and though Felicity got off a few shots, she only managed to nick the animal once before it plowed into her hip knocking her off balance and to the floor. She landed hard and her weapon skittered from her hands. It was while the creature loomed over her that Felicity noticed an odd necklace tugged tightly around the wolf’s throat.  

 

Grabbing for the closest thing she could get her hands on, Felicity felt a little give underneath her fingers when she picked up the heavy object. She hurled it at the wolf, who swiped at it, causing flour to explode in the air.

 

In a cloud of white the creature disappeared.

 

* * *

 

The excited chattering of this brothers reminded Oliver of the night they’d awoken from their long sleep. To be free of their stone skin and together again had been a wonder followed by the marvel of the new world they’d found themselves in. They hadn’t been able to blend their lives with the humans as before, but given the treachery they’d experienced, he’d been in no hurry make their existence known – particularly since after awakening they’d dealt with far more Tommy Merlyns than Felicity Smoaks.

 

The members of The Pack: Laurel Lance, Mick Rory, Leonard and Lisa Snart; Chen Na Wei, Macbeth, Anthony Ivo … and so the list went on. Thankfully, most of their human adversaries were either still in jail or deceased, but their work alongside Felicity to protect Starling City only added to their foes. Unfortunately, their list of allies had not kept pace. There was Felicity's brother Rory and the mutated humans they'd befriended recently: Maggie, Claw, and Fang, along with Diggle's blind friend Jeffery Robbins. Oliver would list Felicity’s partner, McKenna Hall, and her captain but neither were aware of their existence; though he was beginning to believe that at least McKenna should be brought into the fold. He could see the toll keeping their secret put on their partnership. Oliver relied on McKenna having Felicity’s back when he couldn’t and he did not want her hesitating over a sense of doubt.

 

“What do you think?” Barry asked as he placed a fedora on his head. He'd become enamored of the private investigator from the _Maltese Falcon_ , Sam Spade, and copied of the look of the character - trench coat and hat - for his Halloween costume.

 

“Not bad,” Curtis answered adjusting his own hat, a vintage aviator helmet, goggles included. Like Barry, he wore a coat, though his was a brown bomber’s jacket.

 

Roy had scoffed at their choices when Felicity brought them a few days ago. He hadn’t want to take the chance of limiting his wings so he wore a loose-fitting vest over frayed pants tied to his waist using the same belt the usually held his loincloth in place. To complete the pirate outfit there was a black patch over his left eye.

 

Oliver was puzzled over their choice to wear costumes. He was certain the humans they encountered this evening would think their natural state disguise enough, but his younger brothers had been enthused by the idea. Diggle had counseled him to let them have their fun and with Felicity taking such pleasure in discussing options with them Oliver decided against arguing the frivolity of it. He had, however, put his foot down when it came to donning a costume himself.

 

Their preening was interrupted by Felicity calling out as she climbed up into the alcove, “Sorry I’m late! The captain needed me to finalize my statement.”

 

“Statement?” Diggle questioned, stopping Felicity to look her over. They had all learned that witnesses gave statements, police filed reports.

 

Felicity waved off his concerned as she provided them with a quick rundown of her encounter with the large, wild dog that had been reported citywide over the past few days. Oliver frowned over her recounting; particularly after she got to her speculation about the creature being a werewolf. That she had faced such a threat alone angered him.

 

The others took it stride and Oliver’s annoyance grew as the conversation turned to Felicity complimenting the others’ costumes while scratching Longbow’s ear. The beast gazed up happily at her tongue lolling. Even with that all that distraction Felicity caught wind of his displeasure because she shooed the others on, telling them she would only need a few minutes to change. More than ready to explore the city at street level without causing a ruckus they shuffled off quickly, promising not to stray far from the precinct without her.

 

When they were alone, save for Longbow sitting dejectedly - since he wouldn’t be joining them - in the corner, Felicity approached him. “That’s an awful big frown there mister.”

 

“You could've been hurt,” Oliver replied, understanding the question Felicity asked without saying. “I should've been with you.”

 

She left out a small sigh as her hand clasped his forearm, “It doesn’t work that way, Oliver. You can't be with me all night, just like I can’t be here guarding you all day long.”

 

“Felicity—” he tried to argue, but she shook her head. “We’re all vulnerable, Oliver, and remember I chose this life.” Her look of determination softened when his hand fell over hers as he nodded his understanding. He would never be comfortable with Felicity being in danger, but he respected and trusted her decisions.

 

She smiled up at him, “It does help knowing someone cares though.” They stood there together for a long, quiet moment, staring into each other’s eyes before a strained chuckle escaped her. “Now enough worrying,” Felicity ordered, slipping her hand out from underneath his. “We’ll deal with the wolf tomorrow. Tonight, I finally get to do something I’ve wanted for a long time now -- stroll down the street with you.”

 

* * *

 

A bad night was too mild a term for the evening Tommy Merlyn had been experiencing. The empire he’d spent so much time constructing was vast and self-sustaining which allowed him the ability to concentrate on projects that he found interesting. Or in some cases, amusing, such as handpicking The Pack and seeing that their little show became a national sensation. That particular distraction was how he’d first become aware of Laurel Lance.

 

During his time watching the dark hair beauty lead the group of oversized egos he’d witnessed her cunning, athletic ability and inherent grace. She outclassed her companions, though that didn’t say much in terms of Mick Rory. The crass, fire obsessed brawler was more muscle than mind. Lisa Snart had beauty and a fair amount of brains, but a tendency to defer to her brother Leonard who had a strategic mind that Tommy admired. The fact that Laurel managed to stay at least a step ahead of him and manage what should have been an unruly crew had piqued his interest.

 

He’d seen a possible match for himself and Laurel had proved his hypothesis true. His stomach turned as remembered how he phrased his proposal in practical business-like terms. “We're genetically compatible, highly intelligent, and have the same goals. It makes perfect sense to get married.” Laurel had accepted and donned the necklace, an antique he’d acquired years ago and known as the Eye of Odin, he’d given her in lieu of an engagement ring. He found the necklace refined and unique like the woman he intended to marry and so offering it to her had seemed the perfect gesture. The way Laurel’s eyes had glowed holding it up to the firelight before draping it across her long, lovely neck told Tommy he’d made the right call. They were not traditional people, let alone your average couple – he’d proven his desire for courtship by arranging a jailbreak for the Pack and Laurel earned an early release for refusing to escape when given the opportunity.

 

Or so he thought.

 

And thinking, instead of feeling, had gotten him—them to this place. Cisco had warned him of the rumors surrounding the piece and even knowing that some legends were true Tommy had dismissed the possibility. Now his spirited, gorgeous Laurel was paying the price.

 

It had taken him a few nights to put it together. The story of a wolf in Starling City circulated quickly, but it wasn’t until he viewed the grainy security camera video earlier that afternoon that Tommy believed. The tufts of blue fur around its right eye, the same shade as the fox tattoo that surrounded Laurel’s eye, had him all but certain that wolf was his fiancée. A belief that had been confirmed when he’d gone to see her that evening in hopes of retrieving the necklace. He’d watched both stunned and horrified as Laurel transformed before his eyes.

 

He was a man of plans, always ready with some countermove, but there was no plan for this. How to track a magically transform human? If not for Cisco managing to shoot Laurel with a tranq dart laced with nanites, Tommy wouldn’t have a place to start. Not that the sedative had slowed Laurel down even a bit. For as aloof as he’d been, putting on the charming facade of playboy after he’d raised himself up from nothing, Tommy had done the one thing he promised himself he wouldn’t. He watched his father overwhelmed by grief shut down after losing his mother, leaving his son heartbroken and alone – Malcolm had given away his heart and in doing so allowed another to have power over him.

 

It was a mistake Tommy had sworn not to repeat. One he thought he had until watching Laurel disappear into the night. He’d been deluding himself that Laurel was his match, when all along she’d been his heart. And based on the information the nanites were reporting the acceleration of Laurel’s metabolism was putting too much stress on her. If he didn’t relieve her of the Eye, and soon, her body would literally burn itself out.

 

“There has been a spike,” Cisco reported over the com just as Tommy managed to catch up to Laurel’s location. There was chaos on the street he hovered over in a gargoyle shaped exoskeletal suit. Costumed revelers were fleeing from a snarling battle between beasts.

 

Tommy wasn’t certain if the gargoyles stumbling upon a transformed Laurel was a good thing or not. He didn’t like the extra energy Laurel was using in her clash with Oliver, but having her distracted could be just what he needed to extricate the necklace from her.

 

He took just a moment more to get a clear lay of the scene beneath him – while Oliver tangled with Laurel, his brothers aided others away from the fray while the good detective tried to get a clear shot at the wolf. Making that his first priority Tommy swooped in, snatching the gun from Felicity’s hands, and crushing it between his metal claws. Paying no heed to her annoyed curse he flipped up and over the dueling creatures. Once behind Laurel, he clasped the necklace and pulled with all his mechanical strength.

 

Sparks flew out from the necklace - its magic protesting - blue streaks that reached his suit and sent the electrical system into meltdown. Laurel roared and the spike in magical energy thrust her hard into Oliver which sent the gargoyle flying fifty feet into a brick building. She then kicked back against him sending Tommy skidding down the street. He watched frozen in his suit, waiting for the backup systems to power on, as Laurel leapt and disappeared from sight.

 

The telltale whirl of his systems reboot was ringing in his ears when Oliver ripped the gargoyle head helmet – one that perfectly matched his features – from his head. “What is the meaning of your interference Merlyn,” he growled as he tossed the helmet to the ground.

 

Tommy reached for helmet and answered with a single word, “Laurel,” as he regained his feet.

 

“Laurel?” Felicity questioned as she came to stand next to Oliver, her skepticism rolled off her in waves. Her flouncy yellow ball gown was torn and smudged with dirt.

 

“The wolf - it’s Laurel,” he explained. Before they could write off his claim he provided them with a quick summarization about the jewel around the wolf’s neck. The detective maintained her scowl, but conceded that they’d seen magic before – news to Tommy, as he used to be better informed when it came to the gargoyles and their pet police officer, but that was something to contemplate later. Right now he needed help. He’d never been good at asking for it, in fact he loathed having the need. For Laurel, however, to save her – he’d do whatever was necessary.

 

Of course, since it had been so long since he made such a request his Tommy’s appeal came off more as a demand. Very much the wrong move when it came to the gargoyle. “I have no more love for Laurel than for you. Even if what you say is true, why should I help her?” Oliver replied.

 

“Because,” Tommy sighed, fully humbling himself in front of his nemesis, willingly exposing his vulnerability, “you know what it means to lose some you love.”

 

Oliver bristled as his worlds, but before the gargoyle could bite out a rebuke a soft voice filled the air. “We help people,” Felicity reminded him with a gentle touch to Oliver’s wrist to draw the gargoyle’s attention to her. “ _That’s who you are_. And as long as Laurel is,” she paused obviously searching for a term to label Laurel’s transformation, “wolfed out she’s a danger to our city.”

 

* * *

 

“Now that’s just rude,” her unlikely, and in any other circumstance unwanted, companion commented as Oliver leapt up, catching a third story fire escape. She caught sight of his rippling muscles in the street light as he pulled himself up. Oliver continued to bound up the escape a few a stories at time until he was high enough to catch a gust of wind that would allow him to continue his pursuit of Laurel via the air.

 

The propulsion element of Merlyn’s suit had not come online during its reboot leaving them to follow Oliver’s trail on foot. Since Felicity needed her breath to run she held off on making a possibly witty or very likely rambling retort. The others hadn’t returned from moving the crowd to safety before they’d taken off, leaving her and Oliver alone with Tommy Merlyn. The marginally charming tycoon was the last person Felicity would have picked for backup.

 

She perused the gossip column, causally or so she claimed to her mother, making it seemed like she was just keeping up with all the comings and goings of her city. Tommy Merlyn and Laurel Lance, no relation to her Captain -- which he’d repeated gratefully at least once daily during the Pack’s trial -- had been making a splash for months. In fact, ever since Laurel had been released from Iron Heights, she had been the date on the billionaire’s arm at every function he attended. Meaning his claim of engagement hadn’t surprised her, as it clearly had Oliver, but she couldn’t blame the gargoyle for mistrusting any information given by Merlyn. He’d lied to the clan too often for that and yet he kept their secret as well. Even after foiling a number of his schemes, he hadn’t outed their existence.

 

One of the reasons Felicity was so slow to let anyone know about the clan was protect them from ending up in lab like Ivo’s. She couldn’t let them be captured, experimented on and possibly dissected. With a phone call or an anonymous video release Tommy Merlyn could endanger the clan and sic the entire world upon them. But he hadn’t … _yet_.

 

The whole thing made Felicity uncomfortable. She couldn’t trust him, but she had to when it came to one important thing – the _most_ important thing in world now. In a way, Tommy asking for their assistance felt as if he was trusting them with what he valued most and up until that moment Felicity would have sworn Laurel Lance wasn’t it. Merlyn cared about himself and what he built, not other people. But hearing the fear in his voice when he told Oliver that the gargoyle knew what is was to lose someone; Felicity knew then Laurel was more to him than just arm candy who happened to be a challenging companion.

 

On this, catching Laurel and saving her from the magic that had transformed her, they were on the same page. Allies even. It felt wrong on just about every level, save for one she reminded Oliver of earlier. They helped people, even the ones they didn’t particularly like, because it was the right thing to do.

 

Felicity started to feel a pinch at her side. She wasn’t breathing deep enough for the level of exertion she was putting forth. She wasn’t about slow down though. Leaving Oliver alone to deal with a wolfed out Laurel was not an option.

 

Two blocks later she skidded to a halt as Oliver dove. She didn’t have his vantage, but when his massive frame collided with something solid she knew he’d caught up to Laurel. Panting she looked over at Tommy, who was winded himself. “I think … I have enough … power for a … jump.”

 

Felicity eyed the height and looked down at her ruin skirt. “Hell,” she muttered as she tugged at the fraying seams, disconnecting the wide hoop skirt of the ball gown. Tommy eyed her garter belt clad legs with appreciation. “I wasn’t going to get the deposit back anyhow,” she told him, her voice biting, all but screaming that he was looking places he shouldn’t.

 

He grinned at her. “I’m happy to cover the fee.”

 

“Just get us to the roof,” she ordered throwing her arms around him.

 

The seriousness of what they were about returned him. His jaw hardened as he triggered the suit mechanism that pushed them straight up into the air. The chill of the wind added to the cold of the metal and Felicity shivered. This was why she preferred her gliding to be done with Oliver, his big arms and wide chest kept her warm no matter her outfit.

 

They landed on a roof with an awkward clang. The noise drew Laurel’s attention and apparently seeing a scantily clad female in Tommy’s arms was not something she appreciated. She let out a howl and charged them after shaking off Oliver. Both she and Tommy pushed against each other, disentangling themselves, but the charging wolf never made it to them. Oliver caught her tail and hoisted her with all of his might, tossing her into electric billboard mounted on top of the building.

 

“Hold her,” Tommy encouraged as he raced forward.

 

The electricity pulsing through the sign kept Laurel stunned until Tommy started to yank on the necklace. The blue sparks returned and Laurel snarled and struggled against man and gargoyle for her freedom, but the combined strength of augmented human and gargoyle won out as the golden chain snapped.

 

They stepped back in tandem, releasing Laurel from the electrified sign. Free of the necklace she began to metamorph back into her human form. Her **naked** human form. Laurel released a soft moan of “Tommy,” as she slid to the roof.  Luckily, Oliver kept her from getting an embarrassing eyeful of Laurel Lance as he turned to her, cutting the distance between. His eyes swept over her searching for injury. “She didn’t get near me,” Felicity assured him stepping into his personal space seeking warmth.

 

Oliver didn’t hesitate to settle his arms and wings around her. Something she was grateful for when the wind picked up thanks to a Merlyn Global helicopter cresting over the building. The main compartment door was open and Cisco Ramon, a dark trench coat in hand and a neon bright orange tie covered in sparkling cobwebs around his neck, stood at the ready. He tossed the coat to Tommy, who wrapped it lovingly around an unconscious Laurel. He scooped her up with care to carry her over to helicopter.

 

Felicity moved in step with Oliver to intercept Merlyn on his path. “The Eye, give it to me,” he demanded.

 

Tommy frowned at the jewel still tangled in his clawed gloves. Felicity knew he didn’t want to give up the powerful artifact though it posed a danger to the woman in his arms. “A trade?” he queried as his grey gaze met Oliver’s again.

 

“Call it what you will,” Oliver answered with a shrug. “I don’t trust you with it.” With a flick of wrist Tommy flung the piece from his hand and Oliver easily caught it in his own. “Now it seems you know my weakness.”

 

Something akin to disappointment flashed in Oliver’s blue eyes. When he spoke, his voice was gravely with it, “Only you would regard love as a weakness.”


	8. Chapter 7: Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A not so gentle push has Felicity introducing the gargoyles to her partner, McKenna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, my deepest apologies for the long delay in updating this fic. The end of 2017 completely got away from me and being responsible for tax reporting always makes January a nightmare. Second, a big thank you to those of you who’ve asked about when there’d be more. And as always, all my appreciation and gratitude to Becky to beta-ing this for me.

_8 Months Ago_

After all but being laughed out of the FBI because of her pursuit of a super-secret government agency, known as ARGUS, that McKenna was certain existed but couldn’t find hide nor hair of, she’d learned to let certain things go. The fact that their Captain took at least one long weekly lunch with her partner’s mother was something she and Felicity never discussed openly, mostly because her fellow detective was in denial about the whole thing. As far as McKenna could tell Lance had always had a fondness for the bubbly and bedazzled Donna Smoak, but up until Felicity’s shooting it had been an appreciation that had always been from afar.  During those early days in the hospital, she’d witnessed Donna getting very comfortable leaning on the shoulder of their craggy superior, who turned to mush under the fluttering eyes of the elder Smoak. Honestly, McKenna found the couple adorable, but when even a hint of anything less than platonic in nature between the pair popped up Felicity tended to turn a sickly shade of green. She had even gone so far to whine to her brother that, “I'm gonna hit myself with something very heavy so that I don't know about it.”  The ‘it’ in her overly dramatic statement being their mother’s blossoming relationship.

Of course, when it came to romantic relations, the entire Smoak-Regan brood had hang-ups. There was the mysterious Maggie Reed that Rory was always flaking on Jitters’s quiz night to spend time with and caused the siblings to squirm whenever McKenna suggested that Rory invite her along. The duo had played the “she’s just shy” card so often that it was a broken record. At this point McKenna was starting to believe the object of Rory’s affection was agoraphobic, which spelled heartache for the outgoing young police officer.

Again, that was something McKenna held off on addressing head on because matters of the heart, like Felicity’s _not boyfriend_ – she’d heard Rory slip and call him Oliver once much to partner’s consternation – were complex. It was hard enough to figure out relationships without folks throwing in their unwanted two cents, so McKenna respected the family’s weirdness when it came to their romantic entanglements. However, what she could not abide any longer was the surety that partner/friend was keeping something from her.

When she first joined the SCPD McKenna had kept her continued research into ARGUS from Felicity and the whole thing had blown up in her face, nearly getting them both of killed in pursuit of what turned out to be yet another dead-end lead. Which is why when her ex-partner, Floyd Lawton, came to her with a new lead for “old time sake” as he called it, McKenna had been ready to loop Felicity in -- that was until she caught her friend in a lie.

It wasn’t even a big lie. Felicity blaming her tardiness on the fact that she’d been waylaid by the Captain was more like a fib really, but an obvious fiction to McKenna as she had been the one who’d actually just been with Lance. It smacked her in the face then, how many times she’d been on the receiving end of those little falsehoods, and the accumulated number finally got to McKenna. She was done pretending that her partner trusted her.

In her haze of indignation, she’d decided to press forward alone, albeit with caution, on the tip Lawton provided. It had felt like the right play, even when she’d come face-to-face with an icy Amanda Waller. McKenna didn’t think there was a human being that could resemble a shark more than the sharp dressed, cold blooded self-proclaimed ARGUS agent. There wasn’t anything to trust about the front the dark-skinned woman put forward. The high-end, perfectly tailored charcoal suit matched with a crisp white shirt was armor any top corporate stooge would wear, though she doubted they’d add the very discreet – nearly imperceptible – weapon holster. Given the precision with which she moved, how Waller didn’t waste words or movement, McKenna was willing believe she was a trained agent. The ARGUS part was still in doubt.

After searching so long and finding nothing but dead ends, McKenna had given up on being proved right in her belief that a shadow agency existed. All she could think about was the way Floyd rolled his eyes as passed on the intel. The pity in his sea grey eyes knowing that even though it had cost her career at the FBI she continued to chase the ghost. For the first time McKenna had doubts about ARGUS’s existence …  or maybe it was just that now she hoped they weren’t out there.

Waller was offering proof and entry, for a price – because what secret society didn’t want a piece of your soul? Of course, there would be a cost. McKenna just hadn’t expected her new partner to be it.

Not Felicity exactly, but her friends. _Her winged friends_. If Waller hadn’t shown her the video of the – she termed the beings “gargoyles” – McKenna wouldn’t have believed her. But after watching multiple videos, many of which included Felicity, she couldn’t deny that the creatures existed. And AGRUS, they were interested in them.

McKenna had to bite back a shudder at the tone in Waller’s voice when expressing that desire. The zeal in her dark eyes gave off mad scientist vibes akin to Anthony Ivo and she was left wondering if ARGUS wanted to recruit – an overly polite way of stating enforced servitude – the gargoyles or dissect them.

Debating with herself if she could really risk either outcome just to get an in with ARGUS was officially the lowest point in her life, making McKenna’s expulsion from the FBI a mere blip. Having searched so long, sacrificing so much for a belief learning what compromises she wouldn’t make was defining moment for her. She was still pissed as hell at Felicity for keeping things from her, but that actually played in her favor. Waller would see that and believe McKenna when she agreed to bring one of the gargoyles – preferably the big, gray skinned one – to her.

 

 

* * *

 

When your partner nearly drove you both off a cliff, you knew quite clearly there were problems. Oddly enough the near-death experience hadn’t been the thing to bother Felicity the most. Well, during the out control drive she was pretty worried with McKenna’s lack of concern for their well-being and that of her car. What stuck with her after the fact, when her heart rate had settled again, was the hard, despondent way her friend spoke to her. That tone in McKenna’s voice as she called for an end to all her lies and deceptions before declaring, “Only _your gargoyles_ can save us now!”

Felicity knew then that she had to wrestle for control of the car -- she didn’t have time to freak out about McKenna knowing about them, not when her partner’s play was to force a rescue when the gargoyles weren’t around. Thankfully, she managed to stop the car before they careened to what surely would have been their deaths. Though it still hadn’t come to a complete stop before McKenna had jumped out of the still rocking vehicle shouting for gargoyles to show themselves.

“McKenna!” she hollered in her patented Loud Voice upon exiting the car, racing around it to stand in front of her partner. Her dusky skin was spotted with red from her anger and the adrenaline.

“Don’t lie to me,” McKenna snarled through gritted teeth. You’d think the rage contorting McKenna’s face would have masked her natural beauty, but she was just as gorgeous as ever and the contrast of her usual good nature versus what Felicity saw then was striking. She had done this and in doing so it was quite possible she’d broken them.

It was a gut-wrenching thought that had her shoulders stooping even as she maintained eye contact with McKenna and admitted, “They don’t follow me everywhere I go.”

Her partner opened her mouth ready to shout again, but the words seemed to hit her causing her jaw to slacken and her dark eyes to blink. As McKenna snapped her mouth closed she brought her hands to hip and narrowed her gaze. “You’re not denying they’re real.” It wasn’t phrased as a question – it came across more as disbelieving statement, as if McKenna hadn’t expected her to come clean. Even after the terrifying drive she’d taken them on.

As she waited on the steps outside of the station, Felicity was still uncertain if she could salvage either her personal or professional relationship with McKenna, but she knew like the evening before when she’d straightened her shoulders and promised, “No more lies,” she had to try. Her partner was unimpressed and skeptical when she joined her a few minutes later. Even though words were a specialty of hers … or maybe not since her rambles were often embarrassing, Felicity knew actions were needed here. McKenna needed to see and she had to be the one to show her.

She didn’t implore McKenna to trust her or have faith, after all her outright lies and half-truths, Felicity knew she had to earn that again. Instead she told McKenna to follow her and led her friend through precinct, into the janitor’s closet that had the only unblocked access up into the clock tower of the building.  The fading pink and orange of sunset could still be seen as they entered the common area the gargoyles used as their main living space. She watched as McKenna took in the shelves crammed with books and DVDs, the hot plate, the stacks of food, the corner that housed Diggle’s lounger and TV.

“Nice getaway spot,” McKenna snarked sarcastically.

Felicity shook her head at McKenna’s tone and waved her over the steps which she’d come to rest by. “There is more to see,” she assured her, heading up to the outside ledge where the gargoyles spent their days. The sun had nearly set when they stepped out and McKenna grouched, “You brought me all the way up here to show me _statues_?”

“Just wait.” She nearly told her ‘Patience young padawan,’ but Felicity had a feeling that it would be awhile before they’d be back to their usual banter studded with pop culture references. McKenna’s face remained skeptical, even as she suggested taking a step back, as the final bit of sun dipped below the horizon.

Her partner hadn’t heeded her warning and ended up jumping backwards with a yelp as the ‘statues’ fissured. Even though Felicity had witness their awakening many times before she found the sight breathtaking. The sudden life breathed into stone was a magnificent sight to behold. She took her own eyes off of it for just a moment to take in the awestruck look on McKenna’s face certain that even after all these months her own face bore a similar expression.

Her friends roared to life, pebbles of their encasement pinging on the brick and glass of the tower. Felicity didn’t see any surprise or anger on their faces, in fact most of their faces showed excitement, as they took in the slack-jawed McKenna. Still what concerned her most was Oliver’s reaction. As pleased as the others were, it was his response that carried the most weight. His, “So, you’ve finally decided it was time,” cleared the apprehension she harbored. She was smiling when Longbow leapt up to greet her with a sloppy lick to her cheek. Giving the pup, as she’d come to think of him, his beloved scratch behind the ears, Felicity replied, “Better late than never.”

 

 

* * *

 

Knowing about gargoyles was a very different thing than _knowing_ the gargoyles. Faces, names (Oliver, Diggle, Roy, Barry, Curtis, and Longbow), personalities – their vow to protect the city, the aid they’d given Felicity and by extension her, the truth about magic and engineered hybrids and Rory’s Maggie. It was a lot to take in and yet all of the missing pieces were filled. Like it or not, McKenna found herself begrudgingly understanding Felicity’s silence. She appreciated her friend’s need to safeguard the gargoyles, but after all they’d been through together, it hurt that Felicity felt they needed to be protected from her. Oliver, the leader of the clan, said himself that she proved to be a loyal partner and righteous policewoman. Why hadn’t that been enough for Felicity to confide in her instead of having to confront her friend with the truth?

McKenna had wanted to ask, but there had been something she needed first – something with which she didn’t want Felicity involved. So, she pulled Oliver aside and explained about her quest for ARGUS, the claim that Amanda Waller made about being with ARGUS, and the fact that they were aware of gargoyles. Then she asked for the impossible, or what seemed liked it, since for as much as Oliver believed she had Felicity’s trust, McKenna was doubtful. Would he go with her, alone, to an unknown place and walk knowingly into a trap with only her word that she was on his side and would get them out of it? Did his trust in Felicity and her perceived faith in her carry enough weight for that?

That Oliver agreed honestly floored McKenna, and with his assent the last of her anger at Felicity faded. If anyone had that kind belief in her, McKenna wouldn’t do anything to risk it either. Of course, taking Oliver to Amanda Waller held that potential, especially if she wasn’t able to keep her word and get him safely back to his clan and Felicity.

Whether she was ARGUS or not, Amanda Waller was threat to the clan, one that had to be dealt with and Oliver was of the mind to protect the clan’s exact number, home, and daytime secret from her. It was hard to argue with his point of view, but she knew Felicity would have fought the strategy of just the two of them going to the place Waller dubbed Hotel Cabal. McKenna decided to let the big guy handle that pitfall if— _when_ they got back.

 

 

* * *

 

The beast was magnificent. The brute strength it displayed tearing through the first booby-trapped room sent a thrill through her. Amanda had already begun calculating how she could use that muscle on future missions when the beast utilized a flash of ingenuity she hadn’t expected. It was hard to argue that above average intelligence was a bad thing, but she wasn’t looking for the animal to be a thinking soldier able and willing to question an order, but a weapon to be utilized. Smart enough not to get dead was her preference, but as the winged creature clawed its way out of her second assessment feature, she realized that it might need incentive to follow commands. Depending on the thickness of its skin, there was no way to know if her Task Force X solution would be a viable option. And considering how sharp its claws were, its attempt to remove any implanted device would be easier. The second it made contact the micro-bomb would explode and kill it, wasting a potentially useful asset.

Her research had only identified two of the beasts – the larger specimen before her now and a scrawny khaki-colored whelp who’d been encountered by the Snart siblings, two Task Force X possibilities she’d rejected. She had ways of smothering attitude, but intelligence was pesky. It was why she’d left the Snarts rotting in prison cells and instead bagged and tagged their remaining incarcerated partner, Mick Rory. He was a fiery addition to her elite team.

Amanda would be willing to risk the runt; certain there were more creatures, to run the procedures necessary to ensure control. But the big one … she had plans for him, from the moment she caught a glimpse of him, she knew she’d bring him to heel and make him a formidable weapon in her arsenal.

She was so caught up in watching the creature before her, assessing it, and her own plans for the future of ARGUS once she brought him in that Amanda missed the danger in the room with her. Then again, she didn’t have much regard for McKenna Hall. She made too much noise in her investigation into ARGUS, made it too easy to keep tabs on her and discredit her. And it was obvious that she didn’t know how to judge the trustworthiness of people that surrounded her. The only positive endorsement Amanda was willing to give Hall was her persistence.

In the end, she’d managed to use that against her. Hall was not ARGUS material in her book, but eliminating that threat would be something to handle later. Once she was certain all of Starling City’s strange residents had rounded up and Hall had no influence with them or she saw to it that they didn’t. With the gargoyles at her disposal Amanda knew she would finally have all she needed to take control of ARGUS and clear out all the undesirables from the agency.

The creature had just started to traverse the hotel’s rooms with a speed that made no logical sense when she was rammed from behind. Amanda let out a pained whoosh as her stomach collided with the desk and her head slammed off the large monitor in front of her, one of many she’d been using to observe her prize. “You’re going to regret that,” she hissed.

“I really won’t,” Hall countered as she kicked the feet of her chair out from under her, causing her to crash to the floor. Amanda landed on her left side with her arm angled awkwardly. She heard a tiny crunch and felt a twinge in her wrist. Sprained, possibly broken she calculated even as she pushed to her feet.

Turning, she saw Hall slip through the door and in her ire Amanda didn’t hesitate to follow her. The intentionally uneven hallway had her stumbling. Having had a hand in the design of the building she should have been prepared, but Hall had managed to throw her off. It was the only reason Amanda hadn’t been sure-footed and if she had been she would have caught up to her quarry before she slipped through a door.

Instead she was a few seconds behind and when Amanda entered the room Hall had ducked into she found it empty. Annoyed she twisted the doorknob, but it didn’t give. She tried again with more force but the knob didn’t move at all. With a frustrated groan Amanda reached for the key around her neck. There were only five such keys in existence, skeleton keys that shut down the traps in the Hotel Cabal’s rooms and allowed someone to navigate the place safely.

It was only when her palm struck her sternum that Amanda realized her key was no longer around her neck. It clicked into place then: Hall banging on the door to get in after she’d been separated from the beast because she ‘dropped’ her key, the creature jumping so suddenly from room to room, and Hall disorienting her – the creature had Hall’s key and the detective had taken hers.

The room started to spin. It wasn’t her own sense of growing panic that caused the sensation, but the room itself actually moving. She was caught in her own trap and even if she managed to navigate herself out of the hotel, Amanda knew she’d be completely mad by the end. That was the whole point of the place, submission or oblivion.

 

 

* * *

 

Body aching, emotionally and physically exhausted McKenna wasn’t sure now was the time to address the outstanding elephant in the room. Waller was dealt with and Oliver was back on his perch with his clan, the brood asleep for the day like she wanted to be. She knew Felicity was annoyed at her. It was clear though her partner was biting it back because she felt she didn’t have a leg to stand on after lying to her for so long.

Yeah, if she wanted a real chance to keep her friend and partner the eggshells had to go. So McKenna asked, “Tell me why?” She let the hurt she felt show on her face and her voice trembled a bit with it when she added, “Why did you keep me in the dark for so long?"

Felicity deflated, McKenna wasn’t certain whether it was her question or its tone, but her friend sagged a bit. "It's not that I didn't trust you,” she said bringing her arms up to hug herself. “I guess...” Felicity bit her lip and McKenna could see her genius brain at work behind her tired blue eyes. “I just didn't want to share them,” she confessed. The naked honesty of Felicity’s words jolted McKenna. She watched her friend’s face flush with a mixture embarrassment and shame she thought, if she read her eyes right. Felicity’s next statement proved that she had, “As long as I was the only human they confided in, it made me feel … _special_.”

With the truth she’d demanded given McKenna had no trouble closing the distance between them. “I get that,” she said, swinging an arm across Felicity’s shoulders.

“Really?” Felicity always seemed way younger than the five-years age difference between them when she had the hopeful look on her face.

“Really. Though that doesn’t mean I’m not going to make Rory grovel for keeping this from me,” McKenna said with a sly grin, already putting a list together in her head for her personal errand boy to perform over the coming weeks.

They laughed over that as they headed downstairs, even as Felicity counselled that she shouldn’t go too hard on Rory. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a few tasks for you to Blondie,” she assured her partner. She got a glare for using that nickname, but McKenna shrugged it off, deciding she had a free pass to use it as long as she wanted. She also planned for a solid month without a paperwork and making Felicity responsible for handling their outstanding reports as well, along with an improved credit rating.

Though exhausted, her mood was cheerful as she exited the precinct sans her partner – busy with said paperwork – ten minutes later. Caught up in the thought of her outrageously fluffy bed and hours of sleep she wasn’t aware of Floyd Lawton until he called out to her. His presence caught her off-guard but McKenna angled herself down the stairs in his direction. “Floyd,” she greeted.

He pinned a small, gold button to the lapel of her jacket. It was hammered around the edges and from the middle of the left side the hammered effect V’ed out two-thirds of the way across the circle. Before stepping back, he whispered in her ear, “Welcome to ARGUS.”

“ _What_?” she sputtered, confused by his words.

He grinned. The son of a bitch actually grinned at her like a proud parent. “You weren’t actually supposed to find Waller,” he said, his voice low to ensure no one overheard him. “That Yamashiro lead was meant to be another wild goose chase. The fact that you got to Waller …” there was an unmistakable hint of glee in his voice, “well consider us impressed McKenna. You’re ARGUS now.

“But,” McKenna stumbled trying to mask her fury and not call Oliver by his name, “the gargoyle got away.”

“Your job was to get the meet,” Floyd said shaking off her perceived concern. “It’s not your fault Waller couldn’t hold him and quite frankly I’m happy to be rid of her. She had her eye on the top spot, would have gotten it too if she brought that beast in,” his dislike for Waller and that possibility was evident. “I can’t think of anything more terrifying than Amanda Waller with that kind of power.”

Having met the woman McKenna didn’t doubt that, but she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe someone else hadn’t felt the same way and made sure her lead panned out. It wasn’t a musing she wanted to share with her ex-partner, in fact, if she never shared anything with Floyd Lawton again that be fine by her. As if sensing her thought … “Don’t pout kid,” he said cordially, nudging her chin like used to back in their FBI days. “You’re in the big leagues now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do have two more _Gargoyles_ story arcs I want to cover in this fic, but I only have the roughest of outlines for them currently. I'm not certain when those final two chapters will come, but I am determined that they will.


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